


Blood Wars

by CaptainStormChaser



Series: The Family of Blood [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Being Buried Alive, Cunnilingus, Demon Sollux, Domestic Karezi, F/F, F/M, Hamilton mention, Harry Potter References, Hate Sex, Human Casey, Hunter Dirk, Hunter Karkat, Hunter Terezi, Hunters, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Nostalgia, Rough Sex, Satanism, The Princess Bride References, Unsafe Sex Practices, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Jake, Vampire John, Vampire Kanaya, Vampires, Vampirestuck, Wall Sex, Werewolf Jade, Werewolf Jane, Werewolves, Witches, and also occultists, but it was an unsafe amount of lube, domestic gay nakodiles who are stock brokers, escaping graves, hunter dave, like they used protection, resurrection confusion, sex dungeon renaissance apothecary coffee shop for satanism, slight underage sexual themes, werewolf equius, werewolf nepeta, witch Rose, witch roxy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainStormChaser/pseuds/CaptainStormChaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Welcome to the land of the dead. You will never grow old, never need to sleep, and never die."<br/>John leapt at Jake, hands wrapping around the older man's neck and pinning him to the wall behind him, lifting Jake off of the floor completely.</p><p>Ripped from his home and everything he knows, John Egbert traverses the country against his will with an immortal creature. His only chances of escape, of rescue, lie in the sarcastic lines of red text being sent to him over Pesterchum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

Dave flicked his wrist as he moved backwards, having already seen the target in his peripheral vision. The transition of his katana from a stomach to the new attacker's throat was smooth, sliding across the base of the neck and drawing a line that would allow blood to flow freely from the jugular and right carotid artery.

"Stop." Dave's older brother barked.

Dave froze, biting back a comment that could only get him three more hours of training and a smack to the side of the head.

Dirk Strider strode to the training dummy that had been impaled by way of solar plexus. Taking two fingers, he checked the depth of the wound and mentally measured the proportions of body layout.

He turned back to Dave. "This is not a kill shot."

"What? I hit it right in the-" Dave began to argue.

"In the small intestine. They wouldn't die instantly, they might even live. Before losing consciousness, they would still be able to snap your neck."

"Bro, it's just training." Dave dropped the pose he had been holding in favor of planting the tip of his weapon into the cement surface of the roof and leaning on it.

Dirk's eyes narrowed behind black anime shades. "I'm glad you see it that way, Dave. It comforts me to know that you don't take training seriously. What was I thinking, acting like lives are on the line?"

"Bro," Dave began, knowing where this was headed.

"Oh, that's right! _There are._ Including yours, since you aren't mature enough to train. Please, David. I don't want to impose on you in your lovely suburban home and lovely suburban wife. Enjoy civilian life."

Dave sighed.

"What is the _first_ rule of hunting?" Dirk demanded, placing his face inches from his brother's, forcing Dave to meet his glare.

"Don't turn your back,"

"On the body." Dirk joined in. "Oh, good. I thought you forgot. Because in case you haven't figured it out yet, most people in our line of work die young."

"Bro, I get it." Dave said, disguising his irritation as best he could.

"Good. Now clean this up, restitch the dummies, and sharpen your katana. We might have a sighting on English up in Washington."

Dave stiffened at the mention of the vampire lord. "Did he kill a hunter?"

Dirk sucked in his cheeks and shook his head. "If our informant is reliable, he turned someone."

* * *

John felt like he was drowning in waves of alternating ice and fire. He was shaking and sweating, feeling a throbbing vaguely where his lungs should be as he pulled in gasped breaths of choking air.

A voice was saying something soothing, the words fuzzy and taking all his concentration to even partially make out.

"... very well... over soon enough... brave..." A man was holding his hand over John's mouth. The teenager concluded that's why breathing was so labored, and why he hadn't heard himself screaming despite his attempts.

But John did not have time to ponder on this, because for what seemed like the millionth time since, whenever this nightmare started, his vision went white and pain became numbness.

John had been having a dream that he could no longer remember, when a stirring in his room woke him up. He glanced around, then tried to fall back asleep. Only a moment later he heard a low snarl in the corner of his room, causing him to flail at the nightstand in pursuit of his glasses, having seen enough ghost movies to be fairly terrified of suspicious sounds in the dark. He turned his head to the noise, seeing a flash of vivid green before everything went dark.

The colors kept distorting. That was how John was certain he was dreaming. Of course, it had crossed his mind that he might be dead. In fact, that was a much more rational theory.

Or at least it was until he felt a hand on his forehead, pushing the sweat and hair away. John almost grinned in relief. Of course, he was sick. He was sick, and his dad had taken the day off work to take care of him. That was his dad now, checking his temperature.

"John," a voice whispered above him. "John, you need to wake up now."

He moaned in response, making it very clear that waking up was an undesirable turn of events indeed.

John's dad sighed. "I'm sorry, chap. I know you want to sleep, but you need to wake up now. You'll be getting thirsty soon enough."

Hold on. 'Chap'? As far as John knew, his father had never said chap before. Sense of dread encroaching in a most unpleasant manner, John willed his eyes open.

He was not in his bedroom, and his father was not standing over him.

It was a young man, a few years older than John, glasses slipping down his nose away from surreally bright green eyes. If the light in the room wasn't dimmed and John wasn't recovering from fever dreams, he would have sworn that they were glowing.

"There we are, how are you feeling?" The young man asked, smiling widely.

John sat up, pressing a hand to his forehead. His words were hoarse and throat dry. " _Thirsty_."

The young man nodded. "That's to be expected." He reached behind him onto a table, taking a metal water bottle and handing it to John, who immediately took several large gulps before saying anything else.

"Where am I? Who are you? Why am I here? Where's my dad?"

The young man smiled more gently this time. "Your father is fine, John. You are in my home, recovering. As for who I am, my name is Jake."

John nodded, taking another drink, noticing a slight taste to it, which he contributed to the metal bottle. He looked around the room for the first time, seeing he was in a small bedroom, in the only bed. It was equipped with typical bedroom furniture, a dresser, a flatscreen television on top of it, and a bedside table that Jake had spread various items across. There were two doors, sliding panel doors of the closet notwithstanding, one of which he assumed to be a bathroom and the other leading to a hallway of sorts. Jake was sitting in a chair at the bedside. "But what am I recovering from?"

Jake ignored the question. "Have you had any strange dreams?"

John nodded and drank again. Yeah, there was definitely a taste. "I'm in my room, and I woke up, and there was something in there with me. it growled and jumped at me, and I blacked out."

Jake chuckled into his fist. "Yes, I'm sorry. I was a bit overexcited. You see, John. I've been waiting for you for a very, very long time."

John furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I suppose I should begin with the beginning. Always a good starting point." Jake's smile grew in size, making what he had displayed before seem restrained. His teeth were slightly crooked, but it was the canines that really gripped attention. They extended well beyond their appropriated length, and ended in wicked points and unmistakable barbs.

John's eyes widened slightly. Ever so carefully, he looked down at the inside of the water bottle and noticed something unusual about it.

"This isn't water."

"No, John, it's not. It's something much better."

John could feel a panic attack coming on, something that hadn't happened to him in quite some time. "This, this, this is, is, b-b, b-bl,"

"Blood?" Jake offered, the word so crisp on his tongue.

John nodded dumbly.

"But aren't you glad for it?" Jake asked, taking John completely by surprise.

"NO!" John screamed. He started breathing faster, reality spinning. A strong hand gripped both his wrists together, holding him still and redirecting his attention.

"John, please calm down." Jake requested, unfazed. "This won't do, you'll make yourself sick."

John inhaled several deep breaths, noticing the presence of Jake's palm on his back.

"Are you alright now?" Jake asked softly. "You've gone rather pale."

John looked up at him. "What are you?" He whispered shakily.

"Jake English, born as a human April 21st, 1910. Changed into a vampire in 1930. Does that answer your question sufficiently?"

John stared at him. "Vampires aren't real."

Jake had a good long laugh after that. "You're a smart lad, aren't you John? Know better than to believe in ghost stories." His face became very grim. "However, there are things you should start believing in."

"You can't be a vampire!" John insisted. "That means you brought me here to-" He cut himself short, slapping a hand to his neck. His fingers brushed partially scabbed skin, painful to the touch.

"I don't bring leftovers home, John." Jake said calmly. "That privilege I reserve for friends." He raised one eyebrow, waiting for his words' meaning to get through to John.

John swiped his tongue over his teeth, noticing a difference in his familiar dental structure. "You, _you_!" He stuttered.

"Welcome to the land of the dead. You will never grow old, never need to sleep, and never die."

John leapt at Jake, hands wrapping around the older man's neck and pinning him to the wall behind him, lifting Jake off of the floor completely.

"Excellent, your abilities are developing well." Jake commented smoothly, completely calm with John snarling, teeth bared, less than an inch from his throat. "Although, your sense of decorum is less than desirable,"

Faster than John's eyes could detect, Jake grabbed John by the sides of the head and pulled it close, sinking his fangs in the closed wound.

John wanted to do something, to fight back, but he just, couldn't. He felt heat rising in his cheeks as Jake began to pull blood. Soon John was panting, hands gripping aimlessly at whatever they could get a hold on. One ended up on the back of Jake's neck, the other in his hair, pulling the vampire lord closer and stretching his head away to provide better access. His erection appeared without his consent, and John flinched when it made contact with Jake's thigh. Or at least he would have, if rational thoughts were traveling through his mind.

Instead, he resorted to letting out useless growling sounds, Jake pushing him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. John fell onto the mattress, beginning to feel woozy from A) the blood pooling in his groin, and B) the blood being sucked out through a wound on his neck.

The realization of that sent him into panic, shoving Jake away by his shoulders. Jake made sure to sweep his tongue across the wound first, making John shudder. Jake supported himself on his hands and knees, straddling John.

"I'm impressed, Egbert." Jake smirked, lips bright red and blood trailing out one corner of his mouth. "Not everyone can resist that quickly."

"Wha- what!?" John gasped.

"Oh, you do look simply _ravishing_ right now." Jake muttered, more to himself than to John, his eyes half lidded. "But Janey would be downright livid with me if I made a mess of you."

Then Jake was standing, smug satisfaction on his face. "I'm going to go prepare dinner. I want you to finish that," he pointed to the water bottle of blood. "And take a shower. Everything you need should be in there. Just yell if you need anything." He pointed to one of the doors before moving toward the other, pausing in the doorway. "Oh, and don't even think about trying to escape. I'll know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief PSA:  
> Okay, I know JohnxJake wasn't in the tags, but that's because Windicuffs is not going to be included in this fic.


	2. Act 2

John looked at the blood on the night stand, and decided quickly that he wouldn't be ingesting more anytime soon. That just left showering.

He waited until he got into the bathroom and locked the door to begin taking anything off, feeling more than a little unsettled at the prospect of being naked in the bedroom.

The shower was not unlike the one in his own home. He turned the water on hot, looking at himself in the mirror while it warmed up. His hair was glossier than he remembered it being, silky and soft to the touch. All acne he had experienced lately was gone without a trace. But his eyes.

His eyes had taken in a vibrant, inhuman hue of blue. And they were glowing.

John got in the shower, feeling the scalding water wash over his skin. He stood in the spray for sometime before he realized he should be washing his hair or something.

He stepped out of the shower some time later, noticing that his clothes had been taken. He wrapped a towel from the rack around his waist, finding a fresh set of clothes spread out on his bed, trying to think back to when Jake could have slipped in and taken the dirty ones.

Fully dressed and looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, John realized that he was missing something. His glasses. And yet he could still see as clearly as he could with them, if not better.

John left the bedroom, opening into a short hallway. The only way out was into a living room, separated from the kitchen by a granite-countered snack bar lined with stools.

Jake was in the kitchen chopping some sort of vegetable, facing away from John, so far oblivious to him.

John eyed the front door, a way escape if he was silent. He shifted his weight to the toe of his shoes, glancing at Jake every so often. He had cleared the couch and was just laying his fingers on the handle when the thwack of a kitchen knife slipping into drywall next to his head distracted him from that particular pursuit.

"Going somewhere, John?" Jake asked innocently, removing a chicken from the oven.

John looked at the vampire with frightened eyes, saying nothing. He shook his head.

"Good, I already set your spot." Jake said as he moved the chicken to a platter. "And I request that you mind your manners, as we have company."

John nodded, taking the seat at the snack bar Jake had indicated. It was on the end, meaning he would either be sitting next to Jake or the unknown dinner guest. He couldn't say which he would prefer.

Jake set a glass in front of him, and John immediately noticed that it was full of thick red liquid as opposed to water.

"I, um,"

"John, I know you might be against consuming human blood, but I can assure you, the donor was quite willing."

"Donor?" John blanched. "You got this from a blood donor?"

Jake chuckled again, setting a carafe of blood on the snack bar. "Not in the context you are imagining, but yes. The blood was donated willingly."

Jake crossed the living room, jerking the blade from where it was still stuck, and taking it back to the kitchen sink. He glanced at the clock, then set his sights on his young friend.

"About what happened earlier, I did not intend to confuse you about anything. I apologize for not warning you of the effects of vampiric venom. I, however, had no intent of forcing any sort of sexual relationship upon you. I only intended to distract you for long enough to free myself from my situation, as well as issue a small personal test."

The door bell rang, redirecting both of them to the front of the house.

"Ah, but this is not conversation fit for the dinner table." Jake corrected himself before crossing to the door and opening it, letting in a tall woman wearing a black sunhat.

"Please, come in Lady Maryam." Jake said, briefly kissing the back of her hand. "May I take your hat?"

"Of course, Lord English." Maryam said, removing her hat and revealing short, and very stylish, dark brown hair. She caught sight of John staring at her, and smiled her perfectly painted green lips, matching her bright jade eyes. "Might I inquire to who this young gentleman is?" She asked, gesturing one willowy arm in John's direction.

Jake smiled. "Lady Maryam, this is John, my new protégé. He just woke up a few hours ago, I was afraid he wouldn't be able to join us for the evening. And John, this is Lady Kanaya Maryam, my colleague."

"How do you do?" Kanaya asked.

"Good, thank you." John's eyes flicked to Jake's, glad to see a sign of approval.

* * *

Jane sprinted through the woods approaching Maple Valley, sense of nostalgia overwhelming as she sought out a house she knew well.

She skidded to a halt at the tree line, her pack right behind her.

The block was lined with police cars, lights flashing in the weak light of dawn. "Damn." She swore under her breath. "We're too late."

Jane whipped around, tears starting to fall from her face. Her pack looked at her, faces etched with worry and sympathy.

There was a moment of silence, then it was little Nepeta who spoke up. "We might not be." Jane turned to her sharply, feeling regret when she saw the look on Nepeta's face. "I mean, maybe he hasn't changed him yet. Maybe he's waiting."

Jane shook her head. "Jake wouldn't wait. He thinks he's done enough waiting."

"Now what?" Jade asked the alpha werewolf.

"We find Jake English." Jane said. "And we make him pay."

* * *

John did his best to eat without taking a drink, 'donated' or not. But the food just tasted like ash in his mouth, and there was condensation forming on the glass, sliding down so deliciously. Jake seemed to take notice of this as well, nudging John in the foot a few times and looking pointedly at the glass.

If Kanaya noticed, she was keeping it to herself. John liked Kanaya, the way she was always smiling gently and elegantly, sitting tall with her ankles crossed beneath her long red skirt, raising her glass to her lips and managing to not leave a green lipstick smudge behind. She certainly lived up to her title.

Jake excused himself to use the restroom, and as soon as the door clicked closed behind him, Kanaya said quietly. "It helps if you don't think about what you're doing."

John looked at her quizzically.

She pointed to his full glass. "Just pretend it's water and you'll barely even notice."

John picked up the glass, tilting it back and swallowing a good deal of it, trying to follow her advice while ignoring how much he savored the lingering taste. He took in a lungful of air before turning to her. "Thank you."

"No need." Kanaya said with her small, polite, and proper smile. "Would you like to know how I earned my title of ladyship?" She asked.

John nodded.

"I trained and tutored over a hundred younglings such as yourself to the point of self-sufficiency." She explained.

"Oh, wow."

"And I also realize that you may harbor some resentful feelings toward your creator, in this case Lord English. I advise that you try to let go of them as soon as possible, as that will only become a hindrance on your new life. He is, after all, your new mentor."

John nodded, then paused. "Wait, you said you earned your title?" Kanaya nodded with an affirmative hum. "Well, how did Ja- Lord English, earn his?"

Kanaya smiled coyly. "I believe that is up to him to tell you himself."

Sensing John's discomfort, she spoke again. "He's not a bad person. I should know, I turned him."

Almost on cue, Jake reentered the room and took his place at the table.

"Excuse my absence, I trust you two did not miss me."

Kanaya shook her head. "Not at all, I was just making conversation with your ward here."

Jake chuckled. "I suppose that's more than I have so far."

"I shouldn't think so." Kanaya said. "After all, you did say he awoke a few hours ago. That should be plenty of time, granted there was no," Kanaya trailed off. "Jakob English, you didn't!" She said rather sharply.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are referring to." He said calmly.

"You know exactly what I am speaking of. You 'tested' him, didn't you?" Kanaya's eyebrows came down to a sharp angle.

"Whether I did so or not is none of your concern." Jake defended, setting his fork down.

Kanaya sighed in defeat. "Perhaps this is something to discuss later."

"I agree. Shall we continue this over a glass of wine?"

Kanaya raised one eyebrow. "You always were a charmer, Lord English."

Jake smirked. "Naturally." He turned to John. "John, why don't you leave us to talk? I'm sure you would like some time to get used to the house."

John's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes, I know I've kept you on a short leash so far. But you have free reign of the household for the moment." Jake winked before adding, "I'm sure you'll find the downstairs just as amusing as I have."

John stood up and walked back to the hallway his room was in, taking a moment to explore the rooms. There was the restroom that Jake had presumably used, several vacant bedrooms, two locked doors that John could clearly see were off limits to him, and a downward staircase.

The stairs led to what had to be the arcade of sorts, gaming systems lining the walls, all the classic arcade games that you never saw anymore, and a towering bookcase holding movies to watch on the 102" flatscreen.

The first thing John saw upon perusing the selection was that Jake had VERY good taste in movies.

Selecting a familiar title from the shelf, John opened the DVD player and popped it in. He began searching for a remote to the television, finding it jammed in the cushions of the semi-circle couch.

Upon turning it on, he found it tuned into a news channel.

"-Egbert disappeared from his father's home Wednesday night. If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of John, they are advised to contact the police immediately."

The news anchorwoman continued with other stories, but John didn't hear them.

There were police looking for him. Of course there were police looking for him, because his father had found him gone in the morning.

John bolted up from the couch, going up the stairs as quietly as possible. He tip toed down the hallway, hearing Jake and Kanaya talking.

What they were saying made him pause at the end of the hallway.

"You can't treat him like he is her. They are two different people. John has probably never even met her."

"I know," Jake said, spinning his wineglass. "He just looks so much like her. And it makes me think about Jade."

"You know it isn't your fault." Kanaya soothed.

"But what if I'd been there? What if I had got there first?"

"Jake, please stop doing this to yourself. You had no way of knowing your sister would attack you like she did."

Jake scoffed. " _Sister_. I would hardly call her such."

There was a stretched silence before Kanaya cleared her throat politely. "When are you planning on moving him?"

"Soon. He'll want to contact his family soon, and I need him out of the state before then."

Kanaya gently rested her hand on Jake's elbow. "You know I'm here if you need assistance with him. It is my area of expertise, after all."

"Thank you, Kanaya. You've always been a good friend."

"Likewise." She emptied her glass, and Jake went to refill it, realizing the wine bottle was empty.

Jake stood to retrieve the new bottle, and John saw opportunity. On one of the armchairs was Kanaya's purse, cell phone visible in the top opening.

His fingers wrapped around it, retreating back to the hallway. He went back down to the arcade, muting the television. John typed his father's cell phone number in, hands shaking.

"Hello?" Came his father's rich baritone voice.

"Dad, it's me." John replied.

"John? Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Dad. I don't know where I am. I don't have much time before they notice the phone's gone, but-"

"'They'? Your kidnappers?" Mr. Egbert's voice was frantic.

"Yeah." John said. "His name is Jakob English. He just said I'm at his house, but I'm pretty sure I'm still in the state."

"Alright, the police are looking into it." He said after a pause. "Son, I am so, so proud of you."

"Thanks Dad. I guess I'll see you soon?" John said, unsure of the last part.

"Of course, son. They're going to find you, bring you home, and we will never have to hear about this English character again."

"Okay. Bye Dad, I love you."

"I love you too, son." John hung up the phone, sneaking it back up stairs.

Kanaya was pulling everything out of her purse on the coffee table, Jake searching through the cushions of the chair it had been on.

"Are you sure you brought it with you?" Jake asked.

"Certain." The vampire lady replied, putting everything back inside her purse. She glanced up, eyes meeting John's and finding the green phone in his hand. "Jake, I think we may have a problem."

Jake looked at her, then followed her line of sight. "John, did you take Lady Maryam's mobile phone?"

John nodded shamefully, holding out the device, which Jake took, going through the calling list and finding a number not listed as a contact.

"John, who did you call?" Though Jake already knew the answer.

"I had to, he was worried and there are police after me, and I,"

"John." Jake said, more sternly than before. "Who. Did. You. _Call_?"

"My dad."

Jake nodded, expecting so much. He turned back to Kanaya. "Lady Maryam, I hope you will take my mobile for the time being and allow me to purchase you a new one."

Kanaya nodded. "Of course, though I suggest you go into the calling list and tap on the conversation in question."

Jake dug a phone out of his pocket, handing it to her. She stuck it in her purse, grabbing her hat from the stand. "Good evening, gentlemen, I have my own family to get back to."

"Can I expect to see you at the Lalondes'?" Jake asked.

"Of course. I am yet to meet this new coven mother." She opened the door, leaving the house before Jake turned back to his ward.

The lord followed Kanaya's instructions, and the phone began to play the entire conversation John had had with his father.

When it had ended, Jake clenched his fist around the phone, crushing it far beyond repair before throwing it to the floor and digging his heel into it for good measure.

"Well, John. It appears we have some packing to do." Jake looked back at the kitchen for a moment. "You will wash the dishes and clean up after dinner while I gather my personal belongings. If you try to leave, I will be forced to render you unconscious. Are we clear?"

John nodded, and Jake allowed himself a smile. "Good."


	3. Act 3

Dave was nudged awake by his brother as they pulled up to a motel in the middle of the night.   
  
"I'll get us a room, you grab the bags. And plug your laptop in, I'm gonna need you to do some research for me tomorrow."   
  
Dave groaned. "Seriously? Why can't I go investigate while you do the bullshit office work?"   
  
"Because the high amount of 15-year-old detectives would make you blend in too well, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?"   
  
Ten hours later, Dirk was waking up, putting on a cheap black suit, and shaking Dave awake as he left the room with car keys in hand.   
  
When he pulled up to the Egbert residence, Dirk was surprised with how many cops were there, despite the case being several days old. This was a first day turn out.   
  
He parked the bright orange car a ways down, not wanting to draw too much attention and have the cops ask too many questions.   
  
The door was open, officers going in and out. They didn't even notice the smartly dressed young man with pointy anime shades and equally pointy hair slip in and approach who could only be the missing boy's father.   
  
"Mr. Egbert?" He asked, the shaken man on the couch turning his head. "I'm Detective Blake, I was hoping I could ask you some questions."   
  
Mr. Egbert gestured for Dirk to sit in the arm chair next to him.   
  
"Now, if you could run through the night your son went missing, that would help."   
  
Egbert sighed. "It was a regular night, I gave John dinner, he went up to his room when we were done eating. I cleaned up and watched some television, and when I went upstairs he was brushing his teeth. John said good night and went into his room. It was about ten o'clock. I went to bed, and when I went to wake him up school, he was gone and his room was destroyed."   
  
Dirk jotted down some quick notes. "How so?"   
  
"The bookshelf was tipped over, um, the window was open, his bed was a mess, and there was blood on the sheets. The police think he might have fought against his attacker, because it wasn't John's. But it doesn't match anyone in their data base."   
  
"And was John acting unusual the days prior?"   
  
Egbert shook his head. "When he called me yesterday, I was so scared. _He_ sounded scared."   
  
Dirk nodded. That was an interesting tidbit of information. That would also explain why there was so much activity on a case that didn't have any leads. Cases the Striders were called to rarely did.   
  
"John told me he was fine, but I'm still worried."   
  
"That's perfectly natural, Mr. Egbert. When we get John back, this'll all be over." Dirk soothed.   
  
"So you're certain you're going to catch him, this Jakob English?" Egbert asked.   
  
"I won't rest until your son is safe." Dirk promised. "Thank you for your time. Would you mind if I took a look at John's room?"   
  
"Go ahead, if you think it'll help."   
  
Dirk nodded, standing. He walked up the stairs, pestering Dave what he had learned.   
  
John's room was at first glance, a typical teenage boy's room. Some dirty clothes strewn across the floor, shitty movie posters covering every spare inch of wall, blankets jerked down to the end of the bed and one pillow on the floor.   
  
The aforementioned bookcase was tipped forward, top of it cracked. Dirk bent next to it, examining the break in the wood. Running his thumb on the underside of the shelf, he found scratch marks that the police would have credited to the fall. All eight of them were arranged the perfect distance apart for fingernails to dig into the grain as a humanoid crouched on the top shelf and tightened their hands for purchase.   
  
Dirk looked at the pillow on the floor next, finding a dark spot of dried blood. He cringed at it. The blood wasn't John's, but that meant either English had let a mortal teenager get the best of him, or John Egbert was in serious danger.   
  
Dirk idly investigated the computer desk, pushing the power button of the monitor. The computer was unlocked, as well as signed into Pesterchum. He allowed himself a bit of expression to combat his poker face. A slight smirk. He texted Dave the chumhandle of young mister Egbert before descending gracefully back down the stairs.   
  
Dirk was thinking up some follow-up questions for Egbert to ask before he left, but someone else was speaking to him.   
  
It was a girl about Dave's age with long black hair. She was holding a plate with a chocolate cake on it under a few layers of plastic wrap.   
  
"Hi Mr. Egbert. I'm Jade, one of John's friends from school." She held the plate out and handed it to him. "I made this, because cake always cheers me up when I'm sad, and I thought it might help you until they find him."   
  
Egbert smiled. "Thank you, Jade. That is very kind of you."   
  
Jade left out the front door, and Dirk caught a whiff of wet dog, laced with something else. Anyone else would have given credit to ownership of such a canine. But anyone else wasn't Dirk Strider.   
  
So he watched her, getting into his car and waiting until she was a ways down the block before starting up the engine and following her. He spent probably a half hour following her, using a series of turn arounds and parking lots to remain out of sight.   
  
After a while, he got a message from Dave threatening to kill him if he was dead and got the car and all their supplies locked up in an evidence impound somewhere.   
  
Dirk rolled his eyes, tossing the phone into the passenger seat before he realized Jade was going somewhere without conventional roads.   
  
He parked the vehicle in the next available hidden alley/driveway area, leaning over the passenger's seat to create the illusion of grabbing something from the floor, just in case she had noticed him.   
  
He locked the car, glad for once that he didn't have the neon orange Enzo he had fantasized about owning for as long as he could remember. It would have stood out, especially in the seedy area his potential target had taken him to.   
  
When he closed the trunk, he was armed with his usual tools of trade, along with special things just for werewolves.   
  
Lock picks lined the inside of his hat, a trick he had picked up from a colleague some years back in order to avoid clogging up a modus with semi-important bullshit. In addition to that little strategy, a hip flask of holy water was tucked into the waist of his pants, and his ever-present katana was stowed safely in his strife specibus. Plus he had an entire row of sylladex filled with assorted types of backup pointy shit, ready for a sick rhyme to launch them at unsuspecting attackers. He was more or less ready for anything.   
  
He started following Jade on foot, side stepping a group of kids playing with a basketball in some sort of game of chicken.   
  
She wove through the maze of backyards in chain link, crossing a few streets until they were in a more labor oriented section of the city, blocks divided up to accommodate warehouses.   
  
He gradually got closer, completely focused on his own silence. It naturally took him a bit by surprise when someone managed to sneak up on him, as well as overpower him when he tried to fight back.   
  
He glanced to where Jade was turning a corner, catching a glint of a grin and small friendly wave before she was gone. Dirk looked at his assailant for the first time, and understood why he had been bested and pinned to the wall of a building by his arms.   
  
The guy was built, broad shoulders and thick arms completely made of solid muscle. Long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, lips pulled back into a snarl that revealed a few chipped teeth. His black glasses were also worse for wear, both of the rectangular lenses cracked.   
  
"It would seem the tide has turned, hunter." He growled in a low tone. "Though I believe 'hunted' would be a more exact term at this point."   
  
"Good morning." Dirk said pleasantly, noticing a distraction over the werewolf's shoulder, letting his eyes flicker to it for no comprehensibly obvious stretch of time. "You seem a bit upset. It wouldn't be that time of the month again, would it?"   
  
The wolf's eyes widened with anger, a bit of dark blue iris visible over the rim of his sunglasses. "Of all the profane remar-"   
  
He was cut off by Dave's cry of "Pricey mineral glitter" before the cloud of silver dust was flung at the back of his head, exposed skin of his neck beginning to make an unpleasant sizzling noise and turn bright red.   
  
The wolf released his grip on Dirk, sprinting away with a throaty rumble of anger and pain.   
  
Dave raised an expectant eyebrow at Dirk.   
  
The older Strider brother ran a thumb over one of his biceps, where there were sure to be finger shaped bruises by morning. "Dave, what the fuck are you doing here?"   
  
"Saving your ass."   
  
"I told you to stay at the motel."   
  
"I got the research done in the backseat. The neighbors didn't exactly have impenetrable wi-fi passwords in place."   
  
"That's not the point. I told you to stay at the motel, and you disobeyed me and put yourself in danger."   
  
"Or maybe you could look at it as me taking initiative and thinking on my feet instead of leaving you to the wolves. Literally."   
  
Dirk's eye did not twitch. The lower and upper lids of his right eye most certainly did not shudder with the stress he was under, completely hidden by triangular anime shades. Anyone who could tell you that was lying. Striders didn't feel stress. Striders didn't feel. That was how someone succeeded in this profession.   
  
"Dave, get back to the car. You're grounded."   
  
Dave's jaw made a slight loosening movement that amounted to a gaping stare. "Seriously? I'm _grounded_? I'm going to sit in the car while my big brother gets rid of the big scary monsters, fucking perfect."   
  
"Don't bitch about it. We're leaving."   
  
"What? Why?"   
  
Dirk began walking in the direction of the car, which was at this point several blocks away. "Unless the cake the wolf gave Egbert was spiked with something, it was actually made as a caring gesture. And the fact that I was just jumped by a werewolf confirms it. She isn't alone, and someone in her pack is connected to the Egberts personally. We just need to find out how."   
  
"Maybe that's why English took John. Hurt whoever sent the cake.   
  
Dirk unlocked the car, sliding into the front seat. "Well, that's going to be your job for the rest of the time we're here. From the motel room." He pulled the car away, heading back in the direction of their motel.

* * *

John stared out the darkly tinted window of the car, following the route of the power line with his eyes.   
  
Jake was talking, but the teen was doing his best to tune it out. They turned onto a street, and John recognized the name. Finally taking a look around, he realized they were in Seattle. An idea popped into his head, perfectly aided with the way Jake was distracted.   
  
Crossing his arms, he gave his hand the placement needed to subtly flick the lock. Waiting until they were at a stop light, John grabbed the door handle and pulled it toward himself, ramming his body against the door.   
  
He nearly spilled onto the sidewalk, a hand on the back of his shirt anchoring him in the passenger seat.   
  
"Ah ah ah," Jake scolded. "We'll have none of that." He jerked John back into the vehicle, reaching across him to close the door. "Am I really such horrible company?" He asked facetiously.   
  
John didn't answer, just sat with his arms crossed.   
  
"Ah, yes. The silent treatment. It's been a while since anyone deemed me worthy of that." Jake put his hand on the back of John's neck in a swift precision movement, squeezing it briefly. John's vision went black.   
  
When he awoke later, it was dark outside and they were out of the city. He was also in the back seat.   
  
"Oh, you're awake." Jake said, looking at him in the rearview mirror. "I trust you're feeling more agreeable."   
  
John nodded groggily. "What happened?"   
  
"I told you that if you attempted to escape, I would be forced to render you unconscious. And I keep my promises, John."   
  
John rammed the door with his body again, meeting a good deal of resistance.   
  
"Child lock, John. It contains tiny demons, as well as vampires. And that is _another_ escape attempt. But seeing as you have just woken up, I'll allow this time to slide."   
  
That sat in silence for a while after that.   
  
"Why did you do this to me?"   
  
Jake laughed. "It's a very good story, I assure you. But how about this? You behave until we get to our destination, and I'll tell you. Deal?"   
  
"Fine." John replied, suddenly realizing how dry his mouth was. "Where's..?" He trailed off.   
  
"My apologies, I forgot how often fledglings need to feed. Cooler by your feet."   
  
John pried open the plastic lid, pulling out a water bottle from the pool of icy water. He downed more than half of it before he remembered to care that it was dark and coppery tasting. But it quenched his thirst in a way water never had.   
  
"Where does it come from?" He asked Jake.   
  
"I didn't think I needed to tell you that." Jake replied with a smirk.   
  
"You know what I mean."   
  
Jake chuckled in that unsettling way of his. "Oh, let me pull your leg, John. I was under the impression that you thought yourself quite the prankster. The blood comes from consorts."   
  
"Consorts?"   
  
"Donors, of sorts. I believe you have been made aware of the affects vampire venom has on the mind? There is a wide clientele pool of humans willing to give blood in exchange for only a few milliliters."   
  
"What do they do with it?"   
  
Jake shrugged. "Drink it, spike food, inject themselves, lace drugs with it, whatever they want."   
  
"Isn't that dangerous?"   
  
"Not at all. Venom itself is completely sterile and perfectly safe, what they do with it is their own decision."   
  
About a half hour later, Jake pulled the car over into a gas station. He cast a glance back at John before getting out to fill up the car. When he got back in, he invited John to sit in the front seat again. John accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hella late, hella filler, what is this chapter?  
> More actiony actions next chapter!


	4. Act 4

Equius hissed through his teeth as Nepeta worked, her delicate fingers maneuvering the tweezers and plucking shiny particles from the inflamed red skin of his neck and upper back, which she was dropping into an ashtray.

"Just say it." She coaxed gently. "It'll feel good."

"I refuse." He gasped in pain. "Such profanity shall never fall from my lips."

"Striders. It just had to be Striders." Jane muttered. "All the hunters in the world, and it's Broderick's sons."

"They're a minor threat." Jade said calculatingly.

"They want to get John back home. We could work with them." Nepeta pointed out.

"No. If it was anyone else, maybe. But not the Striders." Jane said louder than before. "Where other hunters keep peace, the Striders want revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Nepeta asked before muttering a quick apology to Equius for the growl he let out.

"You don't know, that's right." Jade recalled.

Jane cleared her throat, settling back onto the air mattress on the cement floor. "Fifteen generations of hunters, and that's just that we know about. The Striders are the best. But a while back, they started making allies. Jake and I both among them. We were both in town when they were murdered in their home, disemboweled and children asleep."

All eyes were on Jane now, Nepeta having stopped her work.

"That makes me a suspect, and an enemy of the Striders. Broderick had kept tabs on Jake for a while before he died, but I've managed to avoid their eye altogether. For all they know, I really died back in '72."

Her cyan eyes scanned her pack authoritatively. "And it's going to stay that way."

* * *

Dave had multiple tabs open of newspaper articles, genealogy trackers, and a timeline they had handy of English's known whereabouts over the past eighty years.

Throughout the late sixties, English spent a great deal of time in Hawaii, making frequent visits between there and the mainland U.S.

"Look at this." He said, waving over Dirk, who still had half his face coated in shaving cream. "English's trips to Hawaii stop after this." He pulled up one of the articles, an old one.

"'Hoʻolehua mourns the disappearance of bright young student, Jade Harley.'"

"The wolf I was following was named Jade. Are there any pictures?"

Dave scrolled down, revealing a black and white image of a girl with long dark hair hugging a pale dog, grinning a buck toothed grin.

"That's her." Dirk confirmed. "But how does she tie in with a vampire lord, and somehow become a werewolf?"

"I checked her genealogy, and the family tree's missing a few limbs." Dave opened the page he had of a flowchart. "According to this, her paternal grandfather was a Jakob with no last name."

"You mean,"

"Yeah. Jade Harley is a werewolf and her grandfather is a vampire lord. That ties her in to the supernatural community from birth, but I can't find anything else."

"Do you have anything on John yet?"

Dave shook his head. "I tried messaging the Pesterchum account, but no reply."

"Makes sense. English will probably keep him on a tight leash for a while. Especially after he got a hold of a phone and called his old man." Dirk returned to the bathroom, finishing up his shaving.

"So, what?"

"You keep looking for what connects English to John. This was specific, planned. There has to be something."

"And just what will you be doing while I carry out my grounding?"

"Making some calls, figuring out how to find English."

* * *

Jake alerted John when they passed from Washington into Idaho, and he witnessed the transition to Montana for himself, Jake pushing a button below the dashboard clock and changing the time to a lovely three in the morning and seventeen minutes.

"So this is it." John said with resignation. "We're leaving."

"You seem downhearted." Jake observed.

John shrugged. "I knew I would leave home someday, I just didn't think it would be like this."

Jake patted John comfortingly on the shoulder. "Buck up, chum. It's not the end of the world. Merely the beginning."

"How do you know that?"

Jake's lips grimly. "I went through this too, John. I left my family behind." He stared solemnly out the windshield for a moment before brightening again. "But I go on and live my life nonetheless. Now I have friends and family who care about me, and I'm happier than I was alive."

"So is that really how it works? You're, I mean we're," John took in a breath and let it out slow. "Dead?"

"You can't look at it so black and white, John. We're not dead or alive. Merely, frozen if you will. All the damage in your body is repaired to prime condition, and then it all stops."

"Just stops? What about when cells wear out, the pumping of the heart, the thought process of the brain?"

Jake laughed. "You sure know a lot about biology, don't you?"

John nodded. "It's my favorite class."

"Good. When we get relocated, I'll know where to start with your lessons."

"Lessons?"

"You can't go without a high school education, and you now have to learn a whole hidden set of history and biology."

"Great." John said sarcastically. "I'm undead, but I still don't get out of school."

John allowed himself drift off to sleep again, cheek pressed to the window.

When they stopped once again, they were in northern Wyoming.

After getting gas, Jake sent John a look before going in and coming out with donuts and two cups of shitty gas station coffee.

They then traveled further into town, pulling up to the curb near a row of stores lining the street.

Jake parked the car outside a small electronics store, giving John stern instructions to stay in the car. The town was fairly inactive, considering it was 10:30 a.m. on a Sunday.

Jake returned with a paper shopping bag, setting it on the center console when he got back in. He dug through, pulling out a forest green cell phone and setting it in his lap. From the bottom of the bag, he retrieved one of the same model in blue, holding out to John.

"Here, this one's yours."

John looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I have it set up so that I will see and hear every call you make, as well as text messages."

"Oh." John said dully. He turned it on, running his thumb over the smooth surface of the screen.

Jake was texting someone with a good deal of vigor before smirking and pocketing the device.

"How much blood is left in the cooler?" Jake asked, pulling out and leaving town.

John opened the lid of the cooler behind Jake's seat. "Four."

"That won't last us much longer. How would you like to learn to feed?"

John nearly spat out the mouthful of coffee he had just almost swallowed before aforementioned near spit-taking. "What? You mean like, from living people?"

"I believe that's what I intended to say."

John could only gesture with his hands for a few moments. "No!"

Jake spared him a glance with one raised eyebrow. "John, how many living persons have you associated with since waking?"

"None?"

"For good reason." Jake refused to say anything more on the matter, instead leaving John to attempt to apply a screen protector repeatedly, unsatisfied with an air pocket on the screen because that is distracting and blasphemous to deal with.

The first thing he did upon achieving the hard won level of 'good enough' was download the Pesterchum app, at Jake's request. Apparently the instant messenger was popular in the supernatural world as well as the human.

John got logged in and added Jake's and Kanaya's chumhandles to his roll before he noticed he had a chum request and pending messages from someone named turntechGodhead.

He tapped agree.

turntechGodhead [TG]  began pestering ectoBiologist  [EB]  at 18:12 on Saturday  


TG: hey john its dave  
  
TG: whats up  
  
TG: whatever bro i dont have feelings just pester me back when you get this

turntechGodhead [TG]  ceased pestering  ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:16 on Saturday

John cast a cautious glance at Jake, who was focused on the road, before replying to this Dave character.

ectoBiologist  [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]  at 11:24 on Sunday   
  
EB: hi dave!  
  
EB: what's up?  
  
TG: the usual  
  
TG: helping my brother fight back the swarms of the undead  
  
TG: and by helping i mean doing it for him  
  
TG: while he sits on his ass  
  
TG: fucking cinderella shit going on  
  
TG: except i dont have any magic talking animals to do shit for me so i can sit on my ass too  
  
TG: they just run around and try to steal our food in the middle of the night  
  
TG: lazy fuckers  
  
EB: wow, okay.  
  
EB: i still don't really know who you are.  
  
EB: or how you got my chumhandle.  
  
EB: and were you joking about the fighting back swarms of the undead part? because i've had a weird couple of days and wouldn't completely doubt it.  
  
TG: jesus egbert  
  
TG: i know you never called after our magical night together but you could at least remember a girls name  
  
TG: i wasnt even that upset when you yelled out my sisters name right at the end  
  
TG: but i still set you straight after  
  
TG: good to know you care john  
  
TG: ill keep that in mind if you ever booty call me at one in the morning again  
  
TG: like sorry egbert you have to guess my name  
  
TG: and my cinderella story has just turned into the tale of rumpelstiltskin and the blue balled princess  
  
EB: haha! but seriously, who are you?  
  
TG: that depends on whether your dad or some other temporary care taker or guardian is reading this  
  
EB: um, i have one of those in the car, but he's focused on driving and i don't think he really can monitor pesterlogs.  
  
TG: wonderful  
  
TG: remember to delete this conversation when we finish  
  
TG: my name is dave  
  
EB: oh really? i didn't notice.  
  
TG: john  
  
TG: stfu  
  
TG: i wasnt joking about the undead thing  
  
TG: my brother and i sort of deal with the problem you have right now  
  
TG: regarding your home situation if you get my drift  
  
EB: i think i do but if i'm wrong that would be really bad, so could you be the first one to say it?  
  
TG: were the ones who protect people like you from people like english  
  
EB: you mean like vampires.  
  
TG: i believe vampires falls under that curtain yes  
  
TG: along with werewolves and witches and shit  
  
EB: do you hunt ghosts too?  
  
TG: sometimes  
  
EB: so you're like real ghost busters!  
  
TG: no those guys have it easy  
  
TG: while theyre sitting around a firehouse and playing with back vacuum cleaners im up to my tits in spirit sob stories  
  
TG: about how they want the d strides  
  
TG: and im just like ladies and gents please form a line  
  
TG: and everyone who isnt fully corporeal leave  
  
TG: thats right im talking to you janice  
  
TG: turn that fine flapper ass of yours right around and move on  
  
TG: dont stop until you see a bright white light at the end of a tunnel  
  
EB: jeez you type fast!  
  
EB: do you even hunt ghosts? or are you just screwing with me?  
  
TG: oh no john im dead serious  
  
TG: twice dead and body burned serious  
  
EB: okay, now i'm sure you're just messing with me.  
  
TG: astute observation  
  
TG: now onto business matters where are you  
  
EB: um, i don't know. somewhere in wyoming.  
  
TG: cant give me anymore than that  
  
TG: where are you headed  
  
EB: i don't know. he's being really secretive about it, probably so i can't tell anyone who might want to rescue me.  
  
EB: i can tell you every time we cross a state border or get close to a town, but i think he would start to notice.  
  
EB: right now he just thinks i'm getting my new phone all set up and personalized.  
  
TG: every time you stop i want you to try and tell me where you are  
  
TG: were going to find you john  
  
TG: i promise

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 11:52 on Sunday

John deleted the log.


	5. Act 5

With a vague idea on where English was taking John, Dave and Dirk packed up their shit, got in the car, and floored it.

The eye Jane was keeping on them payed off at that point. The wolf pack had a speed advantage over a car moving at legal limits, but these were Striders. And Striders made a habit of speeding down the interstate at 120 mph.

Aware of this possible complication, she had taken the precaution of Equius equip the orange vehicle's undercarriage with a GPS device as soon as the brothers collapsed in a motel after they had taken off from Seattle.

* * *

The next time Jake stopped the car was in South Dakota at a hotel downtown bragging historical significance on a plaque in the lobby.

Jake declined any assistance with bags, carrying his own suitcase having John transport the cooler and backpack of clothing and hygiene-related items he didn't know Jake had assembled for him.

The elevator ride was... pleasant. Jake typed away on his phone, soothingly annoying music played overhead. John kind of stood in the corner, realizing that he should pester Dave and let the hunter know where he was. Not now, though. Jake would notice.

A cheerful ding announced their arrival at their floor, and Jake continued forward without looking up from whomever he was texting.

When they entered the room, Jake claimed the bed nearest the door for himself by throwing his bag on it and falling back diagonally across it.

John set the cooler beside the door to the bathroom and sat on his bed. He opened the backpack, dumping its contents onto the bed.

Toothbrush, comb, deodorant, three pairs of jeans in the same style but in slightly varying washes, four generic differently colored T-shirts from a brand he had never heard of, socks, and underwear.

"I hope I got the right sizes." Jake said.

John turned his head and realized Jake had been watching him. John checked the tags and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. All of it is." John struggled for a second. "Thanks."

Jake's phone buzzed briefly, and he checked it again. A smile spread across his face. "I know you're probably worn out, but how would you like to meet a friend of mine? A _human_ friend?" He emphasized.

John shrugged. "Do I have a choice?"

Jake shrugged in return, sitting up. "I thought I'd ask anyways. So why don't you get cleaned up, and we can grab dinner in a half hour?"

The thought of food made John's stomach grumble. "Sure."

Grabbing a clean set of clothes and his phone and charger, John retreated into the bathroom.

ectoBiologist  [EB] began pestering  turntechGodhead  [TG]  at 20:58 on Sunday

EB: hey dave.  
EB: we just stopped at a hotel in rapid city, south dakota.  
TG: a little past your bedtime isnt it egbert  
EB: we're going to get dinner and meet up with one of jake's friends.  
TG: another vampire  
EB: no, he said they're human.  
TG: shit  
TG: keep on your toes he might want you to feed  
EB: oh my god i didn't even think about that.  
TG: were close  
TG: if youre spending the night there we should be able to get to you before you leave in the morning  
EB: and you can like change me back, right? i can be human again?

Jake knocked on the door, startling John. "I don't hear the shower." He called.

"Sorry." John replied. He glanced back at his phone.

TG: definitely

* * *

Dave disconnected and closed the pester window. He tucked his phone in his pocket, something akin to guilt rising in his gut.

"What he say?" Dirk asked.

Dave shrugged. "You were right. English's hitting donors."

"And..." Dirk trailed off.

Dave sighed. "Egbert's waiting for us to come rescue him. He wants us to turn him back into a human with our infinite knowledge on the supernatural and return him to his dad."

"What'd you tell him?"

"I said we'd do it."

"Hm." That was it. No expression. Just an entirely neutral 'hm'.

"What are you going to tell him when we get there?" Dirk asked after a moment.

"That I'm sorry." Dave replied. _Don't do it._ He chanted inwardly. _It's just another case, don't get attached._

That was the end of the conversation.

* * *

John tugged at the shirt collar, loosening his tie in the process. This restaurant was over the top, silver cutlery and crystal chandeliers.

Jake looked as though he might reprimand the younger vampire, but cast the notion aside.

"Remember, be polite. She has a bit of a nervous disposition."

It was another few minutes before a waiter arrived, trailing a young woman behind him.

Jake stood, taking her hand and kissing the back of it briefly. "Casey, dear, lovely to see you again." He waited until the waiter left with their drink orders to begin introductions. "John, this is Casey, an associate of mine. And Casey, this is John, my, erm, nephew, I suppose."

John smiled weakly. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too."

Casey was skinny, unhealthily so. Her face was sunken, and dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face, but only served to make it look more gaunt.

"You seem well." Jake commented.

"Thank you." She replied, breaking a bread stick over her empty plate.

"You're using again." It was a statement, not a question.

Casey's eyes darted up. "How did you..?"

"I could smell it." Jake's tone softened. "You were doing so well."

Casey busied herself with breaking her bread stick into even pieces.

"You could have called me." Jake said. He reached across the table, setting his hand on hers.

John watched the entirety of this interaction, confused.

* * *

They took Casey back to their hotel suite after dinner. She seemed to know how this went, pulling back the long sleeves of her dress while Jake was in the bathroom changing. John was already in pajamas.

"First time?" She asked John, speaking directly to him for the first time. He nodded. "Are you," she gestured vaguely, trying to avoid saying the word.

"A vampire? Yeah."

Casey laughed a bit. "When I first met Jake, I thought I was going crazy."

John smiled. "I know the feeling."

Jake emerged from the bathroom. He sat beside Casey on the couch. She held her arm out to him. "I don't suppose you need any instructions at this point." He chuckled, raising her wrist to her lips and biting down hard.

John found it interesting to watch her face. The initial pain lasted only for a moment, and then a flush rose to her cheeks. Her eyes closed carefully, and her head fell to lean on the back of the couch. Her breathing grew heavy.

There was a smell, John couldn't place it, that seemed to cloud his mind. A heavy perfume in the air, choking him pleasantly.

"John?"

John blinked twice, clearing his head of that alluring smell. He looked at Jake, not even realizing he had stood up.

Jake sat calmly, Casey's limp hand in his lap. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth. "Would you like to, erm,"

John nodded emphatically, and Jake stood up, gesturing for John to take his place.

Casey's hand was warm, and it was almost as though he could feel her pulse through every point of her skin.

His hand was trembling when he lifted her wrist to level with his face. There was a speck of scarlet on her pale skin, and John flicked his tongue out to swipe it away. Too minuscule to truly taste, but enough to inflame his desire for more.

John bit into the heated flesh, his mouth pooling with liquid rapture. The satisfaction he felt when the first swallow of blood flowed down his throat and spread forth through his body.

The initially cautious sips were soon replaced by heavier gulps, drinking as much as he could.

"Alright, John. That's probably enough." Jake said far too soon.

John resisted, pulling Casey closer to him, as though to force the blood to flow quicker.

It lasted an indefinite amount of time, the older vampire trying to get John to release her. At last Jake grabbed him, pulling John away from the now unmoving blonde.

John ended up sprawled on his back on the floor, Jake kneeling in front of him and blocking him from Casey.

It took a few times, but John noticed Jake saying his name, trying to get his attention.

Dread welled in the pit of John's stomach, his eyes finding Casey's face, much more pale than it had been before.

Jake put two fingers to her neck, slowly turning back to John with his face unreadable.

John shook his head. "Oh my god, is she alright?"

Jake's expression was one of sympathy, though his own pain was there as well. "John,"

"She's fine, isn't she?" John's voice was strained, blood pounding in his ears. Her blood.

Jake didn't answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Your sorrow is my playground, your tears are the fountain I frolic in."  
> -George R.R. Martin probably  
> I would say I'm sorry for this, but I had it planned since the beginning and when I told my friend about it she hit me.


	6. Act 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake deals with the aftermath of John's first attempt at feeding, as well as the hunters on their doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains kismesis-esque DirkJake and some gore.

Jake made a lot of phone calls after that. He had John shower, putting his bloody pajamas into a plastic bag.

Once alone, the tears flowed freely. It was made worse by the fact that he could still feel it. Her blood, her pulse, is what thrummed through his body, spreading through him and into his fingertips.

John hadn't noticed the absence of his own heartbeat since he had been turned, but now it seemed impossible to miss.

What scared him the most was how calm Jake was. Rather than responding with horror, or perhaps anger, at John's deed, he seemed only annoyed with the inconvenience. He regarded John as one would a puppy that had made a mess on the carpet.

It was with ease that Jake lifted the frail body of Casey off of the couch and set her in the bathtub. He removed her clothes, putting them in the bag with John's and then filled the tub with cold water.

Once that was done, he passed a hand over her face, closing her vacant blue eyes.

Jake told John to get ready to leave. He had called Kanaya, and she was sending someone to help.

John waited alone, at one point wondering if there was something he should be doing. Something he had forgotten, lingering on the edge of his mind.

Jake was in the bathroom, "taking care of" Casey's body. He had taken a knife in with him. John tried not to think about what might be going on in there.

At last there was a knock at the door. John opened it without question, and a young woman swept into the room.

"Jake?" She called, drawing his name out for what seemed like eight unnecessary beats. She spared a glance at John, smiling slightly with her cobalt blue lipstick.

"Hey." She said to John, right before Jake exited the bathroom.

"Thank god!" She said, though her tone would suggest anything but joy at seeing the other vampire. "All Kanaya did was call me and tell me to turn around to bail you out of this mess and get your fledgling out of here. Can I stop to maybe feed, for the first time in almost a week, I might add? No, because our only consort for miles around is fucking dead. Meanwhile, I'm about eighty percent sure that there are hunters within ass-licking distance of us."

Jake rubbed at his temples for the entirety of her tirade. "It's good to see you too, Vriska." He grumbled, then looked sharply up at her. "Wait, hunters?"

Vriska nodded, smile tight and bordering on angry. "Yeah. Striders. Fuck knows how they're following us, but they're doing it."

"Damn." Jake whispered, taking a moment to collect himself. "Alright, I was going to stay to deal with the body anyways, but now it looks like I'm going to have company. I need you to get John to New York as fast as you can. _No stopping_."

Vriska rolled her eyes.

"I have blood for him, not for you, but you can last a few days."

"Okay." She said, her arms crossed over her chest. "If that's everything, _Jape,_ then we'll get out of your hair." She signaled to John to grab the backpack sitting by his feet. She also made him carry the cooler loading everything into her car.

The drive was quiet for several minutes. Vriska was the one to break the silence. "John, right?"

John nodded. "Yeah."

"How are you feeling about..?" She didn't need to specify what she meant.

John sighed, breath shuddered. "I feel horrible. I mean, I _killed_ her. And now she's dead."

Vriska hummed what he assumed was her sympathy.

"Don't be hard on yourself. You're still young. Unstable as hell."

"What do you mean?"

Vriska shrugged. "How long since you were turned. A few days? A week? I was four months old before Kanaya even let me _try_ to feed on anyone besides her. Weird actually."

"What's weird?"

"The fact that Jake would let you try so soon. I mean, seriously. I don't know what he expected even letting you in the room. It's almost like he wanted you to lose control." She pondered

"But, why would he do that?"

"Look, John. I don't understand half the shit Joke gets himself wrapped up in. Maybe he wanted you to kill her. Maybe he honestly didn't think about it. I don't know."

They lapsed back into silence.

"So, um, how did you, you know," John began.

Vriska turned to him, a vibrant spark in her eyes. "World War Two. I almost died in a plane crash, and my nurse happened to be a kind-hearted immortal."

"Did you ever see your family again?" John asked.

Vriska shook her head. "My dad left when I was young. My sister and I weren't exactly close, and my mother and I didn't have the best relationship. Besides, according to the WASP records and letters, I was dead."

"Oh."

"Actually, I'm glad I didn't have anyone to miss." Vriska amended. "It made it a hell of a lot easier to start my new life." She nudged him with her elbow. "What about you? Anyone back home to miss you."

John pulled his lips tight together. "No." He finally said. "I don't have family." Was that right? Yes, he was sure it was.

Was it though? John tried to think back, before he had awoken from... whatever the hell being turned into a vampire entailed, but it was hazy. If he concentrated, he could push some of it away for a little while, but it returned, heavy and persistent.

* * *

Dirk triple checked the guns, outfitting himself fully for what lay ahead: a hunt. And a solo one, much to Dave's chagrin. English would be too dangerous, and he needed Dave ready in the car in case he needed a quick get away.

He showed his fake badge at the desk, getting English's room number and key almost without question.

He stopped before the door of the suite, preparing himself.

Quickly as he could, Dirk slid the key card into the slot of the door, turning the handle and opening the door silently. He closed it behind him, scanning the room. It was empty.

There was a door to an adjoining room, probably the bathroom, with light peeking underneath it.

Dirk let out a breath he had been holding, looking around.

One bed had a bag on it, open but neat. The other bed was pristine. Untouched.

This was wrong. There were supposed to be two here.

He retrieved his katana from his strife specibus as he moved closer toward the bathroom door. Cautiously, he pressed his ear to the door.

1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

A full twenty seconds passed without sound, and Dirk opened the door. He winced at the smell of decay that hit him.

There wasn't anyone in the bathroom, but a woman's body sat in the bathtub, soaking in water and blood with cubes of ice floating complacently. The head was gone entirely, arms missing up to the elbows.

Dirk pinched one of the ice cubes between his fingers. It had melted some at the edges, but it was otherwise still in its shape. Fresh.

It's a trap.

"How kind of you to notice." English's voice said from somewhere indistinguishable, and Dirk realized he had spoken aloud.

"Get out here." The hunter growled. "I get sick of you hiding like a coward."

English laughed. "See, this is why you're my favorite, Strider. All business."

Dirk blinked, and the vampire lord stood before him, the sleeves rolled up on his crisp white dress shirt and blood smeared on the front of it. He gestured Dirk to follow with two fingers, stepping out of the bathroom. Against his better judgement, Dirk followed.

English was seated comfortably on one of the armchairs in the room, one placed across from him with a coffee table between them. Dirk took the vacant one, his body tense, poised to strike.

"Where's the kid?" Dirk demanded.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Oh, John? He's with a friend." He took a glass filled with amber liquid from the tabled, sipping it thoughtfully. "Wonderful, really. I couldn't have asked for a better pupil. I'm sure you saw what he did to Miss Casey." He waved his hand in the general direction of the bathroom. "Without a second thought, he drained her dry. Marvelous."

Dirk forced his fist to unclench, English's taunts grating his nerves. "You're not getting away this time."

Jake cocked his head, mocking. Dirk saw something in the reflection of English's glasses; the window to the fire escape was open. It hadn't been before. "Strider, of course I am."

English stood up, smirking at how Dirk visibly prepared himself for an attack. He shoved the coffee table aside with his foot, prowling toward Dirk and stopping right before him. He noticed the twitch of Dirk's wrist, grabbing the katana and twisting it from the hunter's grasp, throwing it onto the bed across the room. "None of that."

Jake planted his hands on the chair back on either side of Dirk's head. He leaned in close, making Dirk shudder. He was close enough to feel the hunter's pulse jumping just beneath the pale, freckled skin. "Keep chasing me for the rest of your life, and I'll still win."

English inhaled deeply from the crook of Dirk's neck, letting out a satisfied hum. The cool breath on his ear made Dirk gasp. Jake chuckled low in his throat. "Do I make you nervous?" He asked- no, the word was too tame. English _purred_.

"No." Dirk whispered intimately in response. "You just make me think of how it'll look to have your head mounted on my wall."

"Kinky." English extended his tongue, the tip brushing a line up the column of Dirk's throat. He pulled back, placing himself nose-to-nose with Dirk. His eyes darted down to Dirk's lips, which were pressed in a firm line. "But that's enough foreplay."

"I agree." Dirk replied, at last striking.

Jake stumbled back, hilt of a knife jutting from his left abdomen. He slid it out, dropping it to the floor. He clicked his tongue, watching as Dirk rose to his feet calmly. "Some people have so little respect for kidneys these days." His eyes flashed a brilliant emerald green, and he threw himself over Dirk.

They struggled gracelessly, the hunter trying to keep English's teeth from ripping out his throat while he floundered to grab the discarded knife. English got his hands around Dirk's neck, sitting on his chest and choking him.

Dirk's vision swam and faded, laughter filling his pounding eardrums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me what you thought.  
> A special thanks to Fellow Sufferer, for their comment on last chapter. I really appreciated it, and it helped me decide what direction I was going with Jake and his relationship with John.


	7. Act 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Striders recover from their meeting with English, John's perspective of Jake changes vastly after hearing a story, and Kanaya meets two lovely young witches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back to rip out your organs with all the precision of a Gene Co. Repo man! Extra points to anyone who can find the other Repo! The Genetic Opera reference in this chapter. Yes, I am aware that this chapter is very very overdue. I would say I don't care, but I actually care a great deal and hope that I haven't lost anyone's readership.

It was a slap that woke up Dirk, his head jerking around and searching for the source of hostility.

Dave was knelt over him.

Memory of the hunt rushed over him, and Dirk sat up frantically. "Where's English?"

"He's gone. Threw himself out the window."

Dirk rubbed a hand over his face. "Shit. How long was I out?"

"You were only gone for like, ten minutes. He probably took off after knocking you out."

Dirk recalled the body in the bathroom, gritting his teeth. "Son of a bitch. He probably already called the cops. We need to move." He tried to sit up, immediately feeling dizzy. He ran his fingers over his neck, indeed finding hot moisture on it. Dirk sighed, turning to Dave. "I know I'm going to regret asking this, but can you drive? And I need you to find out where Egbert is."

* * *

John drummed his fingers on the armrest for a few seconds before Vriska's hand was over his, stilling them. Then she returned it to the wheel.

"Vriska?" He asked.

"Hm?"

John swallowed. "Do you know why Jake turned me?"

"Not really my story to tell."

"Oh."

"But then again, he got me involved, so it's sort of my business in exchange for a meal."

"But I don't," John started before he realized what she was referring to. "Oh." He said sheepishly, reaching into the back seat and taking one of the cold plastic water bottles from the cooler. She downed half of it in one go.

"Okay, so when Jake was still human, he had a sister named Jane. They were close, and they kept in touch while he was adventuring around the country or whatever he did. He got really depressed when she died. Mugged, or some shit. Anyways, he met Kanaya, and she turned him. A few years passed, and he found his sister in Washington. Turned out, she was turned into a werewolf instead of dying. They got in touch again, and everything was pretty good for them after that.

"Yada yada yada, Jake found out he had a kid from before he got turned. After he served his bit in the war where yours truly was shot out of the sky, he started keeping an eye on his son, made sure he went through college and moved to Hawaii to be some sort of millionaire CEO of whatever Jake's family company was that he inherited. He got married, had a beautiful bouncing baby girl, all that jazz.

"Jake loved his granddaughter, Jade, more than anything in the world. He started out just writing her letters, putting them on her window sill and taking her reply letter when she wasn't looking. She was his entire life for a while, and he just stopped everything to watch her grow up."

"I can feel a 'but' coming." John said.

" _But,_ Jane pushed Jake to change Jade, I know, the names make this as confusing as hell, and Jake said he wouldn't. Jane wanted the three of them to be a family together, so she changed Jade into a werewolf. Jake was pissed. He spent a few years trying to find them, but eventually lost the scent.

"They showed up back in Washington a while later, and Jane was married with a kid. Jake confronted her, threatened her, and she died in a car crash a week later."

"He killed her?" John asked in disbelief.

Vriska shrugged. "He told Kanaya he had nothing to do with it. I didn't believe it until he found Jane again a few years later. They both made sure to keep an eye on her kid, Jane not wanting to interfere or whatever and Jake waiting to take revenge. I guess it finally happened."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jake turned Jane's grandson into a vampire on the forty-fifth anniversary of Jade's disappearance. Do the math."

"You mean... me." That was all John had the chance to say before Vriska slumped over, the car veering off the road.

* * *

Kanaya stopped the car in the gravel driveway, admiring the lovely condo before her. It was a soft white, set just atop a waterfall. If memory served, she still had a house in Boston that she hadn't visited in a few decades. New England always had been her favorite place in the states.

"Just your things, Tavros." Kanaya said when he opened the trunk of the car. "I'll be along in a bit."

A young woman stood outside the front door, there to welcome the duo. For a moment, Kanaya thought she had seen a ghost. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, eyes and hair both, though the latter carried none of the grief of the former.

Rather than shake hands, the blonde took both of Kanaya's hands in her own.

"Blessed be, Lady Kanaya." The witch said.

"Merry meet, Sister Lalonde. It's good to meet you at last."

A bright smile. "Please, call me Roxy."

Kanaya nodded. "Roxy. I'm sorry to have heard of your mother's passing. She was a wonderful woman and a dear friend."

Roxy squeezed Kanaya's hands gently, her smile turning grateful. "Thank you."

Inside the house, seated on a plush sofa with a heavy book spread on her lap, was another young lady. She carried a different air about her than that of her sister, with bright eyes outlined by dark and expertly-applied eye make up. Her blonde hair was short, though a headband held bangs from her face.

Her back was a comfortable near-ramrod, telling of practiced poise and posture, though the wit in her eyes left Kanaya without doubt that this girl was not one to abstain from less-than-sincere remarks.

"Lady Kanaya, this is my younger sister, Rose."

Rose set her tome aside and stood, taking Kanaya's hands just Roxy had done. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She said.

"And you." Kanaya replied.

* * *

Jane watched as Jake got into his car, alone. She cursed under her breath.

"Always just one step ahead," she muttered, then felt Jade's reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"We'll get him." The green-eyed girl said.

As if on cue, Equius and Nepeta spotted them from the mouth of the heavily spray painted alley and approached them.

"Anything?" Their alpha asked.

Nepeta nodded.

"The younger one left his cellular phone in the car." Equius said.

"We got John's pesterchum handle!" The young female added.

Jane and Jade exchanged a look.

"I think I'd better be the one to do it." Jade said. "I think getting messages from his grandma who's been dead for forty years might be a little shock."

Jane nodded.

* * *

John felt his phone vibrate against his hip, but ignored it. Thankfully, they had crashed into an empty field. But Vriska was still slumped over.

Biting his lip, John slapped her. Nothing. He tried once more, harder, and she jolted upright and aimlessly swung an arm in his direction. Her wrist contacted John's chin, making him bite down fiercely on his tongue, tasting blood.

"Vriska!" John said, trying to grab her arm and calm her down. "Are you alright?"

The older vampire cradled her head in her free hand, nodding jerkily. "Yeah, just... Fuck. What the hell happened?"

"You were talking, and then you just... collapsed. We swerved off the road."

Vriska groaned, pulling her arm free of John's grasp and using it to push hair out of her face. "How long was I out?"

"Maybe five minutes."

Vriska opened her eyes, blue gaze finding the plastic water bottle still half full of thick red fluid. She picked it up, opening and inhaling heavily.

"What are you-" John started to ask, but she held up a hand to silence him.

She sipped a little, keeping it in her mouth and looking deep in thought before she opened the car door and spat it out into the grass.

"Venom." She proclaimed.

"What?" John asked, confused. Vriska held the water bottle out to him.

"Does this taste weird to you?"

Reluctantly, John sipped his own mouthful. He swished it around on his tongue, spitting it out like Vriska had done. "No."

"Damn it." Vriska muttered. "We need to dump all of it, and tell Kanaya. Oh, she's going to be beyond pissed."

"Why? Vriska, what's happening?"

She sighed. "This blood's spiked. With venom. More than likely Jake's."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're going to be feeding from me until we get to New York. Hopefully, the venom will be flushed out of your system by then."

* * *

Rose was a horrible tease, Kanaya had decided. A witty, polite, lovely tease, but a tease none the less. There! There it was again! A bare foot was brushing Kanaya's ankle, innocent enough to seem an accident.

The violet eyes across the dinner table from her were questioning. It was a challenge, to see if Kanaya was interested. The vampire lady curled the corner of her mouth up only slightly, raising one eyebrow. To continue, there needed to be incentive.

Rose was an intelligent girl, from what little Kanaya had seen in the scant hours since her and Tavros' arrival. Beautiful and intriguing as well. But she was too young.

Now there was a laughable thought. There were few who fell within her age range, none of them human. But all the same, Kanaya was old enough to be Rose's grandmother. Actually, great-great-great-grandmother, if she admitted it. Give or take another tier of greatness.

Rose shrugged innocently, instead paying attention once again to her food.

This was ridiculous. Kanaya had been friends with Rose's mother, and grandmother before her. To even begin to think...

No. Kanaya was resolute. She would not even put another thought toward the possibility of anything happening. Ever.

Wait, why was Rose smirking at her?

Oh. Kanaya had been staring. She looked down at her plate, feeling the warmth of the embarrassed blush rise in her cheeks.

Nope.

Kanaya glanced around the table. Tavros was giving her a concerned look, as though to ask what was wrong.

Kanaya raised her eyebrows in confusion, as though unaware to what he was referring to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happen.  
> I made Maryam do the thing. Leave a comment to let me know what you thought. ~<3


	8. Act 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #shipping trash
> 
> And motherfucking pesterlogs. So much coding. So much coding...

John didn't know when he nodded off, but he woke up in a motel room on a bed. He could hear Vriska talking quietly. He looked up, seeing her leaning against the wall and looking out the room through the small part between the curtains. A phone was held to her ear.

"We'll still make it on schedule, don't get your granny panties in a twist." She smirked, relaxed for the first time John had seen her. "Hey, Kanaya? Would you mind putting Nitram on?" Vriska's brow furrowed with annoyance, and she scoffed. "Yes, _mother_."

There was a pause, and Vriska's expression softened, along with her voice. "Hey Pete. You kicked any douchey wizard ass yet?" She chuckled at her own joke. "Yeah, I'm fine. Had a little fender-bender, but I survived. I'll tell you about it when I get there." She listened. "...Thanks. You too."

Vriska sighed, and smiled awkwardly. "Anyways, I need to hit the road soon if I want to get her ladyship out of my ass. Beat up the witch of Wall Street for me. Right, see you then. Bye... Peter." She hung up, crossing her arms.

John took this as his opportunity to speak. "...Vriska?"

The older vampire started, her eyes becoming accusatory. "How much of that did you hear?"

John shrugged. "Not much. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Vriska wiped a hand down her face, sighing. "'S fine. Just, get dressed. You need to feed, and then we're leaving."

John winced at the mention of drinking blood again, his mind flashing to the sight of Casey, hair slicked to her forehead with sweat, looking so, so pale.

Vriska must have caught his expression, because she rolled her eyes and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside John. She held out her arm. "Here."

John hesitated, and she huffed a sigh.

"I'm not going to bleed out, John. And I am more than strong enough to stop you if you bite off more than you can chew. Capisce?"

John nodded, taking her thin wrist between his fingers, raising it to his mouth. Carefully, slowly, he bit down right where he saw the outlines of veins, colored blue-green by skin.

Like a more mellowed out version of Casey, of ecstacy.

John could feel those intense blue eyes on him, and he slowed his pulls. He drew it out, reveling in each mouthful until Vriska pulled away, and he let her. He licked his lips.

"Impressive." She said, licking across the incisions from John's teeth and he watched in amazement as the skin seemed to meld together.

"Woah." He muttered.

"Guess Jakey didn't tell you all of the perks of immortality."

John shook his head. "He didn't tell me much about it at all."

Vriska sighed, standing up and pulling her hair into a high pony tail. "Typical."

She pulled apart the zipper on John's backpack, fishing out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with what looked suspiciously like Slimer on it.

* * *

gardenGnostic [GG]  began pestering ectoBiologist  [EB]

GG: john!  
EB: hey!  
EB: you.  
EB: don't take this the wrong way, but who is this and how do you know my name?  
GG: im jade.  
GG: my friends and i, well we know what youre going through right now.  
GG: and its really important that you tell us where you are so we can rescue you!  
EB: rescue me from what?  
GG: vampires!  
EB: oh, that.  
GG: uuuugh!!!  
GG: can you tell me where you are please?  
EB: i don't know, ohio?  
GG: where in ohio?  
EB: i don't know, i haven't been paying attention. we've kind of just been driving.  
GG: whos we?  
EB: me and vriska.  
GG: what about jake???  
EB: i'm pretty sure we're meeting him there.  
EB: wherever this alleged """there""" is.  
GG: okay.  
GG: i guess well just keep following jake then.  
EB: hey, jade?  
GG: yeah?  
EB: could you answer some questions i have?  
GG: sure! i dont know if ill have all the answers though. i dont really know too much about vampires.  
EB: why are you trying to save me?  
EB: i mean, i appreciate it, but why?  
EB: hello?  
EB: jade?  
GG: hey!  
GG: sorry, i just got busy talking to my aunt.  
GG: were going to rescue you to get you back home to your dad of course! :D  
GG: hello?  
GG: john?  


ectoBiologist [EB]  has been disconnected

* * *

Jake stepped out of the shelves of the city library, licking the crimson from the corner of his lips. The young man he had cajoled into joining him in the secluded religious theory section sat slumped against the shelves, fighting for consciousness. He would live, but he would have a monster of a headache when he came to. Probably shouldn't be driving either.

Jake felt the eyes on him as he stepped into the warm light of the city, sun shining down on the concrete steps. His transition lenses of his glasses shielded him from the worst of the harsh sunlight, and he passed his own car parked at the curb in favor of approaching the tangerine colored one with a pair of lean blonds leaning against it.

A jerk of the head of the elder Strider, and the younger got in the car.

Jake wore a friendly smile, standing slightly closer than socially appropriate to Dirk. "Do you stalk all the pretty boys that take time out of their day to pin you to the floor of their hotel rooms?" He asked smoothly.

To his credit, the Strider didn't show any emotion. Just stood there, arms crossed and wearing all black against his starkly pale skin. "Do you always sink your parasitical fangs into the dashing semes that you pin to the floor of your hotel room?"

Jake smirked. "Always. But you know, it's not very polite to answer a question with another question."

Dirk arched one slim eyebrow. "You're a cowardly prick, you know that, right?"

"Oh, dirty talk? At least have the courtesy to buy me dinner first."

Dirk's jaw clenched. Jake inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a moment. Oh, Strider was definitely getting off on this.

"The next time you have the balls to be anywhere without witnesses, I'm going to eviscerate you." Dirk informed him.

"Kinky."

"I try."

Jake yawned, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching them, knowing the hem of his shirt would be lifting to reveal a narrow stripe of skin.

He put his hand on Dirk's arm. "Been working out, have you?"

"Got to keep in shape if you want to take down murderous demon spawn."

Jake hummed noncommittally, squeezing lightly on Dirk's bicep and nibbling on his lower lip. "You're attracted to me." He stated, as though it were a fact.

"I've been more aroused by horses."

Jake smirked once again, leaning in close and whispering huskily. "Terrible thing about those skinny jeans you love so much, they do so little to hide your trouser tent. That tank top isn't doing wonders for your nipples either." Goose pimples appeared on Strider's shoulder, accented when Jake blew over his ear. "I'll give John your regards."

Jake stepped away and turned around, stopping only when he recalled something. "Oh, and by the way love, you're the uke in this relationship."

* * *

Dave grinned to himself. Dirk punched him in the arm.

* * *

turntechGodhead [TG]  began pestering ectoBiologist  [EB]  
  
TG: egbert  
TG: you still alive  
TG: okay shit where are you  
TG: looks like well be following english for a while so just let me know whats up when you get this  
EB: dave!  
TG: john  
EB: i'm really sorry, the last day or so has been really hectic.  
TG: youre good just tell me where you are  
EB: i don't know, ohio?  
TG: where in ohio  
EB: ugh. i don't know.  
EB: i'm with vriska now.  
TG: damn it  
TG: okay just keep me filled in on where you are  
EB: i don't know where jake is, though.  
TG: little south of chicago  
TG: i just watched him exchange unveiled flirtations with my brother while i sat in the car  
EB: wait, your brother and jake?  
EB: doesn't that kind of mess with the whole hunter vs vampire trying to kill each other thing?  
TG: its complicated  
EB: oh!  
EB: someone else got in touch with me. i think they might be another group of hunters.  
TG: seriously  
EB: yeah! the one i talked to said they would help me get home.  
TG: what did you say their name was again  
EB: i didn't.  
TG: its an expression egderp  
EB: i know, jeeeez.  
EB: she said her name's jade.  
TG: shit  
TG: what did she say  
EB: she wants me to keep her filled in on where i am.  
TG: lie  
EB: what?  
TG: lie to her  
TG: tell her youre taking a plane to florida i dont know  
TG: but dont tell her where you are  
EB: why not? she's just trying to help me, like you.  
TG: shes a werewolf  
TG: whatever she tells you dont believe it  
EB: okay dave. i trust you.

turntechGodhead  [TG]  has ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so many long times, a chappie for you sweet little carrots. With the end of the holiday season and semester finals, chapter updates will now come more frequently. Meaning they'll happen, which is like hella cool.
> 
> A special thanks to everyone who commented while I took my hiatus.


	9. Act 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lesbians  
> Adult Wednesday Addams references.  
> Assholes crammed into one house  
> The three greatest things in the world.

Kanaya dragged her fingers thoughtfully across the ivory keys of the baby grand piano wistfully. Plastic, she corrected herself. Wildlife protection shipping laws. She pondered briefly on the Érard in the parlor at the house in London, under a pale blue sheet to protect it from the dust.

As her fingers hovered over a familiar chord, she heard the sound of music and paused. It was the long, sensuous notes of Handel coming muffled by doors and distance.

Roxy and Tavros had gone out.

Kanaya made her way to the cracked door of the room the music was issuing from, peeking in.

Rose stood in the corner of her bedroom, eyes closed and bow drawing smoothly over the strings of a violin.

Kanaya touched her hand to the doorknob, realizing her mistake too late as it caused the door to swing inwards and issue the harsh noise of unoiled hinges.

Rose stilled, lowering the instrument and opening her eyes. “Hello, Lady Kanaya. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”

“Not at all.” Kanaya replied easily. “You play beautifully.”

“You may stay and listen.” Rose said, almost too quickly. “I mean, if you would like to, of course.” She amended.

Ah, so that was it. The girl played the cards of seduction well, artistically offering bait and lures and keeping note of which ones garnered interest. But she was still a novice in the field. Whether Rose knew or not, this as well was intriguing, the sincerity behind actions that would be downright shady as hell coming from anyone else. It would be wise of Kanaya to refuse, to give no more thought to this young woman and her flirtatious smiles.

“I would love to.” She said instead.

Rose gestured to the neatly made bed against the wall, and Kanaya took a prim seat while Rose took up playing once more.

The scent of her was thick. A human’s room always carried the smell of what they did, who they were. The pressed flowers she had forgotten amongst her books, the scented candle burned recently, the tepid tea sitting beside her laptop, the lotion she wore, the layer of sweat and tears and blood and musk that was so thoroughly embossed into the bed and floor and clothes that they would never wash out.

Kanaya allowed her eyes to close as the notes rose and fell, each of her breaths drawing her further into this silly infatuation that seemed to grip her so.

When the piece ended, Rose returned her violin to its case, loosening the hairs of the bow before doing the same. She sat on the edge of her bed.

If Kanaya were wise, she would excuse herself and leave.

She didn’t.

“I’ll admit, Lady Kanaya, I find you interesting.” Rose said.

“How so?” Kanaya asked.

“You’re much more, and don’t take this the wrong way, dignified than I had been led to believe.”

The beginnings of a smile started at the corner of Kanaya’s lips. “I suppose you talked to Eridan, then?”

Rose smiled, a bit sheepishly. “As it would happen, yes. He’s the only one who’d met you personally, and seemed like the only choice if I wished to learn about you.”

Kanaya sighed wistfully, shaking her head. “I’m afraid he’s still upset with me over an incident some years back involving another member of my coven.”

The blonde quirked an eyebrow in interest. “Is that so?”

“I do hate to gossip, however,” Kanaya led with an expression informing the human that she had no such qualms. “Eridan and Vriska had a… fling, I suppose, that didn’t end well. I only intervened to the point of helping them both to break it off, and Eridan was a tad sore over it. And then, when the next target of his tragically unrequited affections took a brief lover from a half-demon she had summoned, I failed to diffuse the situation as all protocol demands I personally must, it being a matter of an acquaintance’s romantic life, and there was some feuding.”

“You’re telling me that Eridan’s hopeless longing for Feferi led him to engage in a brawl with not only Sollux but you as well?” Rose asked, leaning a bit forward, her thigh brushing Kanaya’s.

“I never named names.” Kanaya smiled demurely. “As it were, I had a rod of sheer light ran through my abdomen. But naturally, yes, I am the heartless, cruel, absolute beast of a woman who didn’t hold his hand and walk him through his personal problems.”

Rose hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll prepare myself for a story before I pay you more compliments.”

Kanaya looked at her. “Rose, we need to talk about this. Now, I understand what it’s like to be young, to see fascinating, exotic things,”

“Forgive my interrupting, but you seem to be a bit mistaken, Kanaya. I assure you, I have no intention of making this some youthful dalliance for the sheer joy of having had relations with one such as yourself.”

“‘One such as myself?’” Kanaya repeated.

“A stunningly lovely, compassionate, intelligent, and articulate woman.” Rose said more quietly now, leaning close into Kanaya’s personal space.

“A vampire.” Kanaya mused.

“But that isn’t why I’m interested.” She drew ever closer, a clear path made between them to where their lips might brush. “Perhaps I truly am intrigued by your gracious company.”

Kanaya swallowed thickly. The way Rose was sitting, she could hear the steady pulse issuing from her carotid artery, smell the perfume of her skin.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Kanaya murmured.

“So show me.” Rose challenged.

Kanaya shook her head in exasperation, fond smile appearing on her features. This mere child, with her elegant, sharp tongue and teasing demands.

Kanaya kissed her.

* * *

John wasn’t entirely certain, but it seemed like Vriska was somehow able to detect the classic rock radio station with the strongest signal wherever they went. They were halfway across Pennsylvania, rain coming down less than politely, at ten at night, sleepy rock ballad playing low over the radio when she pulled into a truck stop diner.

“Consider this a test.” She told him as they got out of the car, pulling on an orange jacket from the back seat and shielding her head from the rain with the hood.

Well that was foreboding.

“What kind of test?” John asked as they approached the streaked glass door.

“I’ll tell you later.”

The smell of coffee and eggs assailed John’s nose, but other than that, there was sweat. What. What the fuck. Why was the smell of sweat drifting from the bodies of the sparse truckers and the single busty waitress so appealing?

Oh, shit. This was the test, wasn’t it? To see if he could hold it together and not murder the entirety of the diner.

John shuddered, his mind flashing back to the sight of Casey slouched across the hotel room couch, eyes blank.

Vriska led them to a booth, sliding a menu from the napkin holder and glancing over it.

“Don’t get the pancakes.” She warned him. “The only two ingredients are cardboard and ass.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“No, John. I’m merely an omniscient being tasked with watching over the Earth and decided to use this power granted to me to examine the flavor of diner pancakes. Do me a favor: figure out what you want to eat while I take a quick bathroom break. If they ask for drink orders, get a strawberry lemonade for me and Sprite for you.”

Okay, there was no fucking way that she couldn’t tell the future or some shit. At the very least, she was trying to phrase everything as cryptically as possible to make it seem like she could.

A young and obviously overworked waitress did in fact come from the kitchen and get drink orders. Vriska returned only a bit after that, sitting down and switching their drinks. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on John, she took the Sprite in hand and passed it beneath the table, both hands working seamlessly. “So, did you figure out what you want?” She asked nonchalantly. John could smell blood, his hands tightening.

“Oh, well, I thought their E-Z Skillet looked good,”

“Oh, John.” She interrupted. “I don’t actually care. Just keep making it look like we’re talking. If we stop talking, then it’s obvious that someone is doing something, and then anyone who looks up will want to know what it is.”

“Oh.” John looked down at Vriska’s lemonade in front of him. “What _are_ you doing, anyways?”

“A little trick I learned from Jake, actually.” She put the Sprite back on top of the table, now colored with a heavily spreading red-pink, indistinguishable from the lemonade at first glance. Assuming, of course, that that first glance was done with one eye closed. She switched it with her own drink, sipping from it and looking at John expectantly.

“Did you just…?”

“Slit my wrist in a truck stop diner bathroom so I could set up a test for you in plain sight?” She held up her hand, raised flesh from the mostly healed wound pink. “I did. Drink up.”

John removed the clear plastic wrapping from his straw, sliding it slowly into his… beverage, before taking a drink. Oh. Oh my. Oh sweet merciful Christ on a cracker, that was good.

“Have you had enough time?” The waitress said, startling the shit out of John despite the fact that he had heard her approach.

“Eggs benedict and an E-Z Skillet for the kid.” Vriska said.

The waitress nodded, jotting down their order.

“I-is that blood?” She asked, staring at the glass before John.

“Is that a blood diamond?” Vriska countered, looking pointedly at the engagement ring on her left hand.

The waitress scowled, but left them alone.

“On a scale of one to hella, how badly did you want to rip her throat out?” Vriska asked John.

John nodded his head slowly. “Pretty bad.”

“Drink your Sprite, John.”

* * *

Terezi had her hands folded neatly in her lap as she spun the desk chair around and around and around and around, foot always kicking off of the same spot on the desk.

She was startled when she was stopped sharply, Karkat’s hand making a sound as he dug his fingers into the pleather of the chair.

“Could you stop fucking around for three minutes?” He asked her, releasing the chair and stepping away.

Terezi giggled. “Oh, sure. Let me just read through some of your books.” She picked up one such tome, bound in stiff, cracked leather, from where it lay open on the desk. She could feel Karkat’s eyes on her.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled.

“I’m helping.” Terezi replied, sniffing at the dusty page.

“Don’t. You. _Dare._ ”

Terezi stuck her tongue out, slowly bringing it closer to the page.

There was a rush of air as Karkat slammed the book shut and snatched it from her grasp.

“So sensitive, Karkles.” She cackled.

“Can you just stay quiet while I work?”

“Hey! Assholes!” Ah yes, the wild Sollux joined the party, emerging from its attic den with the coming of springtime. “Could you all maybe shut the fuck up? I’ve got some shit upstairs that needs concentration.”

There was a moment of silence. “Are you…?” Karkat began. “Are you doing your satanic bullshit in my house _again_?”

Sollux sighed, more likely than not pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not satanic. It’s demonic experimentation. And it’s TZ’s house.”

The sound of a phone ringing cut through the din of their arguing, and Terezi wheeled the chair over to the phone. She let out one final dragonic shriek to quiet her housemates as she picked it up.

“Yellooo?” She greeted.

“Who is it?” Karkat asked.

Terezi turned her chair around to glare at him, her head tilted. “I don’t know, my dear darling Karkat. I didn’t look.” With her free hand she tapped the back of her glasses and lifted them a few times off of her face.

Terezi turned her attention back to the phone. A sickly grin spread across her face as she listened to the greetings on the other end of the line. “Why David, how kind of you to call.”

Karkat stilled. “Terezi, give me the phone.”

Terezi stood, walking from the office into the hallway, then into the bedroom she shared with Karkat, ignoring his protests.

“English, you say?” She said musingly. “Interesting…” Clamping the phone between her ear and shoulder, she retrieved the red and white cane propped up against the dresser and the wall. Gleam in her unseeing eyes, Terezi drew apart the shaft and head of the cane, hearing the blade slide free, carefully maintained and sharp enough to shave with.

“Oh, we’d be happy to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no excuse for how late this is other than the lack of cell service from Dragon Age hell.  
> But like, Fenhawke. Handers. Fenhanders. Solavellan. Doribull.  
> Dragon. Age. Hell.


	10. Act 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl-on-girl. Roadtrips. Another roadtrip along roughly the same route. Nepeta eating take out in a somewhat unsanitary manner. Ro-Lo. What more could you want?

Rose cut a lovely shape, her shirt unbuttoned and untucked from her skirt and her back bowed, eyes squeezed shut and hair mussed.

Kanaya drew her tongue across the girl’s wrist, sealing the wound. She brushed her lips over the back of Rose’s knuckles, her other hand trailing up her thigh.

Rose’s eyelids parted, watching Kanaya.

“Lightheaded?” The vampire asked.

“No,” Rose murmured, fingers twining in the hair at the back of Kanaya’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss.

It was slow, Rose’s tongue sliding along the seam of Kanaya’s lips until she opened her mouth and allowed the human further exploration.

Kanaya’s hand slid further upward, all but disappearing beneath Rose’s skirt, fingers skating beneath the hem of her panties.

Rose lifted her hips, and Kanaya withdrew her hand. The human gave a small groan of frustration, and Kanaya returned her fingers to their questing, smiling against Rose’s lips.

“Tease.” Rose muttered.

Kanaya brought her other hand to Rose’s hip and slowly, ever so slowly, she began to peel her underwear downward. The smell of musk hit Kanaya’s nose, and she drew small shapes over the freshly revealed skin of Rose’s pelvis.

Her fingers brushed through course blond curls on their movement downward, her other hand on the underside of Rose’s thigh. Rose gave a pleased hum as Kanaya ran her finger over her lips, not yet delving between her folds.

“Patience.” The vampire Lady advised as she drew a soft whimper from Rose by dragging a finger across her slit. Kanaya slowly added more pressure, even going so far as to boldly press her finger to the girl’s clit a few times. All the while, Rose writhed, her hands grasping the sheets of her bed and sounds of pure ecstasy spilling from her.

Kanaya wet her lips and dipped a finger inside as she watched Rose’s flushed face, heard the breathy pleas for release from the sweet torture.

Rose’s back arched, a moan issuing from her throat as Kanaya brought her to the height of pleasure.

The sound of her heart was loud to Kanaya, each of the girl’s heavy breaths bathing her in the smell of lilac and peppermint. Lidded violet eyes followed Kanaya idly, and it was all she could do to stop her body from freezing up with a harsh realization.

No.

No, no, no, no no no.

Not again. Not her.

* * *

The farthest John could remember traveling from home was Anahiem, California. He and his father had gone to Disneyland, and they had had a damn good time. It was New Years of 2005 or 2006, and the lines were basically nonexistent as the vacationers and locals dodged out of the way of the rain that proved no trouble for a pair of Washingtonians. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten that until now.

Honestly, most things before “the change” as he had dubbed it in his mind were a bit fuzzy. It was nearly unsettling. John couldn’t recall if he had ever gone into his father’s room, or if his dad’s nose was a solid straight one or one that turned up a little bit at the end. What color the eyes beneath the prominent fatherly brow were, if he shared his son’s freckles.

Now he was in New York, a sharp elbow in his ribs waking him from his car nap when they got upstate.

They rolled through woodlands, the double-lane road becoming a single lane, then a gravel road, and at last they were shambling up a dirt road, the car practically vibrating.

“How much further is it?” John asked when they had been driving in silence for a while.

Vriska shrugged. “Maybe another half hour.”

John furrowed his brow. “If we were,” he glanced at the clock. “An hour and a half out, why did you wake me up.”

“I got bored.” Vriska said simply.

“Can I turn on the radio?”

“No radio signals out this far. Check the center console, I’ve got some tapes.”

John grinned. “Tapes?”

Vriska shot a look somewhere between amusement and irritation at him. “Okay, I was born in ’21, so fuck you, this shit was cutting edge technology. God damn, when I was your age, kids respected their elders.”

“When you were my age, ballpoint pens were big news.”

“Damn kids and your Blue-pods and your I-tooths. What you need is a good case of polio. Builds character.” Vriska poked her finger into John’s side, making him jump.

He pulled out his phone. He had no service, but Pesterchum was still open, his unread messages still accessible.

gardenGnostic [GG]  began pestering ectoBiologist  [EB]

GG: john, i just wanted to make sure you were okay! we got really worried when you got disconnected.  
GG: please please PLEASE let me know as soon as you get this! we’re still following jake but my aunt thinks he knows.

gardenGnostic [GG]  ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

turntechGodhead [TG]  began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

TG: hey dude i got in touch with some friends in connecticut who specialize in the monster crossover pissing contest shit going on  
TG: theyre both kind of batshit insane and will probably bring their pet to sit in the car while they work but if shit hits the ceiling after we rescue you they know a fuckton about warding so yeah  
TG: anyway let me know when you get this

turntechGodhead [TG]  ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

Surprisingly, there was even a couple messages from Jake. John pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Jake. Yeah, the guy had kidnapped John and turned him into a vampire, but… In some insane way, it was almost like Jake was trying to help him. John didn’t know. John still felt like if he were in danger, Jake would be the first to leap to his defense. However convoluted his methods, Jake genuinely seemed to care about him. Jake kind of seemed like a nice guy, he guessed. He was sure they might have been friends if they’d met under different circumstances. Alright. Complex feelings categorized for the time being. Done. Got that squared away.

John internally sighed and wondered why he couldn't just read the messages and go about his business.

golgathasTerror [GT]  began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

GT: John, i hope this finds you well. As it would happen, i’m having a bit of difficulty shaking a couple pursuers. Although i always have liked to play with my food…  
GT: I will be able to meet up with you and vriska soon. I never got to wish you good luck having her as a traveling companion *wink wink* what with all the chaos happening when we had to part ways. I’m afraid lady kanaya hasn’t been responsive, so when you see her in person, could you deliver a message?  
GT: Tell her that i’ve got the striders right where i want them, and they should be out of our hair soon enough.  
GT: So I’ll see you soon. Maybe then we can finally have a good old fashioned movie night!

golgathasTerror [GT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

“Is there wi-fi wherever we’re going?” John asked Vriska, urgency in his voice.

“John, we are going to be staying in the home of a witch coven mother with the ability to kill people with a snap of her fingers and rip up whole trees. They have the best wi-fi mechanically possible.”

* * *

Dirk thought it might be best they don’t trust John. After all, when would they get another chance like this? English was meeting up with a consort, and they knew the exact time and place. The only thing to sway them was about ten pixels high.

EB: don’t go it’s a trap!

This whole thing was a mistake. Dave knew it after he’d slipped away from his brother under the guise of having to pee, bee-lining around the back of the gas station to the car parked two blocks down.

He checked that he had all of his usual precautions before he opened the passenger door and slid in.

The petite red head behind the wheel didn’t look up, still watching the gas station ahead and fishing noodles out of a take-out box with her bare fingers. Her head bore a knitted blue hat in the visage of a cat, and her eyes were masked with a pair of sun glasses that reminded Dave vaguely of Russian mafia wives.

“I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my drive.” She said.

“I don’t have long.” Dave said. “My brother doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

“And what is ‘this’, exactly? You know my alpha won’t be happy if I let a hunter get in the car and come back to the den with nothing.”

Dave sighed. “I- _We_ need your help. We’re planning on ambushing English tonight. He’s meeting a consort.”

“And you want us to do your dirty work. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I thought we cou-” Dave was cut off by the rapping of knuckles on the driver window.

The werewolf rolled the window down, and a rosy-cheeked brunette with an admittedly nice face leaned over the window.

“Nepeta, dear, why don’t you go enjoy the weather while I talk to our… _guest_?”

“Yes, Alpha.” The red head, allegedly Nepeta, shot one more look in Dave’s direction before she opened the door and got out of the car. The brunette took her place.

“David, isn’t it?” She asked.

“Just Dave.” He corrected.

She smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, I doubt you’re ‘just’ anything.” She said, putting her hand on his arm. Dave immediately tensed, warmth shooting up his body from her touch. “From what I hear, you have an interesting business preposition for me. I’d love to hear it before your brother begins to suspect that you aren’t actually taking a crap in a gas station bathroom.”

Dave removed a receipt from his pocket. Scrawled on the back in pen was the time and location.

“We both want to get John back.” Dave said as he slid it across the dash to her. “If you’ll agree to work together to get English out of the picture, you have my cooperation.”

The alpha pursed her pink, lush lips. “The problem with that is that _I_ want to get John back. Your only interest in him is using him to get to Jake before you kill both of them.”

Dave clenched his jaw. “It’s… a working strategy.”

Jane tilted her head. “Alright. We’ll be there. I’d rather take you on than have to chase Jake all over the country yet again.” Her hand followed up Dave’s arm to cup his cheek. “See you tonight, David.”

Turning away, blush warming up to his neck, Dave got out of the car and sped away.

Dirk was still standing at the gas pump, squeegeeing the windows clean. He glanced over his shoulder once at Dave, taking in the flush of his skin and tousled hair.

“If you wanted to go snake the drain, you could have just said so.”

Dave’s ears went red.

* * *

John’s first meeting with the witch coven mother capable of killing with a snap and ripping up whole trees was not as he expected.

One, she wasn’t wearing dark creepy robes and wasn’t ancient. She was actually like twenty, blonde, wearing pink lipstick and denim shorts, and introduced herself as Roxy, or Ro-Lo when the right music was playing. She also took the initiative to take John’s face in her hands and tell him that yes, omg, he looked exactly like Jake and it was almost scary. She was barefoot when she came out on the deck to greet them, pulling John into a hug while he was still on ground level, his face ending up right in her bosom for a moment while Vriska laughed at him, nearly throwing his backpack to him.

The cocky expression on her face fell, however, when they got inside.

A white suede couch had three figures across it, one of whom he recognized as Kanaya. The other was another blonde girl, closer to his age and leaning against the vampire lady’s side. And then the sort of skinny kid, maybe a few years younger than him with the dull brown colored Mohawk, whose face lit up when he saw Vriska.

“Hey Tink.” He said softly.

Vriska’s response was to blow a raspberry into her hand and kick her boots off, then flop forward over the back of the couch between the boy and Kanaya.

“Ugh.” She groaned. “Almost four days of driving. Two out of ten, would not recommend.”

Kanaya smiled serenely, patting Vriska twice on the head. “There, there, you’ll live.”

Vriska turned her face upwards, sticking her tongue out at Kanaya. “Thank you for your concern, mother.”

Kanaya turned her head around to face John, and he felt for a moment like he was invading. “John.” She said. “It’s so good to see you again. This is Tavros,” she gestured to the boy. “The other member of my clan. And Rose,” she nodded to the girl tucked against her side, who John noticed for the first time was sleeping. “Roxy’s younger sister.”

“Yep!” Roxy chirped from behind John, startling the shit out of him. “My younger sister, my pride and joy.”

Rose, who was not quite as asleep as she seemed, lifted her head to look at her sister. “Please, Roxanne, we all know I’m the lucky one. If only I knew which spectral deity to build shrines to in thanks for the most resplendent of siblings, I’d fall to my knees weeping and beg them to accept my gifts of the finest of my slaughtered livestock.”

“Déjà vu.” Vriska murmured, looking at Rose curiously. “Anyways, when’s dinner? I am sta-arving!”

“Anyone who wants to help is welcome to.” Roxy said, turning into what John assumed must be the kitchen. “It’s taco night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been... a while. But anyways, here's an update! *confetti*
> 
> Note that the rating has been bumped up to E because of Rose and Kanaya being naughty with the thing.
> 
> Edit: When you try to make coding easier but you just end up giving yourself an extra half-hour of work to undo the damage done by your past self's recklessness. Anyways, Pesterlogs have been reformatted to the proper-like state.


	11. Act 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex ahead, all aboard the smut train *toot toot* I'm exhausted :D  
> And also feels.

The meeting place, as it turned out, was a foreclosed framing shop, a victim of Bush’s financial prowess. They passed English’s car in a parking garage a block back, the more obvious vehicle of the consort at the curb out front.

Dirk eyed the place warily, gesturing for Dave to follow him, bypassing the front door in favor of sliding his hands carefully over the pane of a small subterranean window on the side of the building.

It opened with only a soft _shnick_ of protest, and Dirk angled his feet inside and slowly lowered himself in, dropping once he reached his waist. There was a crunch of broken glass under his boots, but the tiny cement-floored office was empty beyond a few broken liquor bottles, door open to the dark building.

He gestured for Dave to do the same, stepping toward the door and carefully peeking through the doorway. There was no sound from upstairs, nor any light.

His steps were completely silent as he made his way up the stairs, the only sound coming from his unsheathing his katana slowly.

The moment Dirk rounded the corner, a body fell to the floor. A thin, balding man in a magenta turtleneck.

English stood just behind, dabbing a handkerchief at his lips. “Strider. So nice of you to join us. Poor Franklin was getting impatient.” English dug his toes into the ribs of the man at his feet, who let out a soft wheeze.

Dirk stuck his arm back, pushing Dave behind him. “The jig’s up, English. We both know one of us isn't leaving here in one piece.”

“Pity. I am rather fond of some of your pieces.”

“Tell me where the kid is, and I might make it quick.” Dirk growled.

“Don’t pretend you don’t en-” English’s nostrils flared, and he shook his head, mirthless smile on his face. “Oh, Dirk, you naughty, naughty boy. Didn't your mother ever tell you that no one likes a tattle-tale?”

“What the hell are y-”

The front windows of the frame shop practically exploded, four snarling wolves the size of ponies standing there, shaking the glass from their fur. As three of them carefully backed English against the far wall, bored expression on his face all the while, the fourth began to contort sickly. Bones snapped, teeth wrenched backwards, fur shot back into the follicles, and…

Naked lady.

Her eyes were bright blue, black hair framing her face cherubically. She seemed unabashed of her nudity, smile more than a bit sultry.

“Thank you for joining us, boys.” She said. “But if that’s alright with you, I’d prefer we take it from here.” She gave a little wave, leaning to the side and making a show of looking around Dirk. “Hi, Dave.”

That little shit.

There was a flash of red, and the wolf keeled over. They all did, in fact. English was a blur, sprinting from the recently opened front windows.

“Silver nitrate.” The wolf at their feet hissed. “Bastard.”

“Stay here.” Dirk ordered, sheathing his katana and chasing after English.

He managed to witness him round a corner at the end of the street, then another, always just in Dirk’s sight.

English was toying with him, he realized. Likely leading him somewhere to ambush him. And Jake knew that he knew. A game of oddly reversed cat and mouse combined with chicken.

It was passing behind a garage that Dirk was hauled by his shirt against the wall, English grinning maliciously at him and pinning him, burying his head in Dirk’s neck.

“You know; I think your biggest mistake was offing your donor back in South Dakota.” Dirk said idly, swallowing thickly at the feel of Jake’s breath on his throat.

Jake laughed once, mirthlessly. “I warned her the last time I saw her. The lingering taste of heroin does little to satisfy my palette.” He shook his head slowly. “Besides, you know damn well who actually pulled the trigger, so to speak.” His lips brushed Dirk’s skin, drawing a shiver from the human.

“You could have stopped him. He’s just a kid, and I know for a fact that you watched him lose control.”

Jake smirked against Dirk’s neck. “I didn't plan it, if that’s what you think. The first one is always the hardest. It’s only right that I should be the one to be there for John. I am his uncle, after all.”

Dirk clenched his fists at his sides. “Your obsession with the kid is sick.”

“Is it?” Jake replied, drawing back and turning his eyes from Dirk for the first time. “I see a great deal of myself in him. Janey might have planted her little false leads to lead me astray, but I have always been there, watching, waiting for the right time to strike. He’s _mine_.”

“There’s a manhunt out for you. Kidnapping a kid, killing a woman, FBI doesn't take these things lightly. ‘Course, if they knew what you really were, they might scratch out a little bit of the ‘dead or alive’ part.”

Jake chuckled lowly, eyes inhumanly bright with some sort of glee. “But you know exactly what I am.” The hands holding tight to Dirk’s forearms pulled them upwards, pinning them both together with one hand over Dirk’s head. He tried the give of the grasp. No good. Even one handed, the leech still had Dirk beat in raw strength.

Dirk nearly jumped in surprise when the other hand cupped his groin. Jake let out a little insufferable snort of amusement.

“Does it turn you on?” Jake breathed against the shell of Dirk’s ear. “Do you like knowing that I could kill you in an instant? I’m betting you don’t meet many humans stronger than you. You never get that rush of excitement that comes with being pushed down, pulled apart, and broken.”

“Fuck you.” Dirk ground out, sucking in a sudden breath when Jake’s hand began to work up and down, palming his cock through his clothes, coaxing it to hardness.

“Just once,” Jake murmured. “Can we put the fangs and the swords away for the evening and enjoy one another’s company?”

“Pass. I’m not really into having my neck snapped after sex.”

“Neither am I. It’s called mutual trust, darling.” Nimble fingers crept upwards, undoing the button of Dirk’s jeans and slipping inside slowly. “You know you want this.” Jake purred.

Dirk grit his teeth together, jerking his hands from Jake’s grasp and turning them around, pressing the vampire’s back to the wall.

“Now _this_ is more like it.” Jake purred.

“Shut up.” Dirk shoved his lips against Jake’s, sucking and biting.

Jake’s hands fisted in Dirk’s jacket. The leech was getting off on this, on pushing Dirk to anger. Deft fingers snuck up under the hem of Dirk’s shirt, grazing the flesh of his stomach before shoving back down his pants, teasing at his thighs.

“I don’t suppose you have anything on hand?” Jake said once Dirk had to pull back for air. “I doubt Franklin had anything of the blood-transmitted variety, but it’s better safe than sorry with you delicate little things.”

Dirk stepped back, the loss of support causing Jake to nearly fall forward. Dirk’s hands were steady as he dug through the back pocket of his jeans and removed his wallet, unfolding it and pulling out a single square of plastic.

“Take off your pants.”

Jake smirked, making a show of undoing his belt and sliding it through every belt loop. “I love when you get all bossy.”

Despite the order, Jake only pulled them down past his thighs, bracing his hands on the wall and looking tantalizingly over his shoulder at Dirk. The vampire wet his lips, watching with interest as Dirk unrolled the condom down the length of his cock.

“I don’t have lube.” Dirk told him in a low voice, spreading his large, warm hands across Jake’s ass, callouses scraping the skin.

“So you intend to prepare me with saliva and the best of intentions?” Jake scoffed indignantly.

“This is on my terms.” Dirk reminded him before spitting into his own hand. “The condom’s lubricated.”

Jake winced as the first slicked finger jabbed forcefully at his entrance, forcing himself to relax. “We should do this more often.” He chimed in when Dirk was knuckle-deep inside of him.

Dirk said nothing, only curled his finger in some sort of retribution, making Jake jump.

It seemed an uncomfortable eternity afterward that Dirk had two fingers buried in Jake’s ass, the noble vampire trying desperately to push back and fuck himself on Dirk’s hand, find some form of friction, writhing in need. “Strider,” he hissed.

It was with a gasp that Jake felt Dirk remove his fingers, instead lining himself up and pressing the blunt head of his cock to Jake’s entrance.

Jake grit his teeth and Dirk pushed inside, dragging him back onto his cock by his hips.

Once Dirk was seated fully inside of him, Jake laughed.

“Something funny?”

Jake shook his head. “Balls deep in my arse, and still so stoic. Don’t you see what’s happened? I've won. For the best, really. Our games are fun, after all, but I like having something to show for it. Best hurry. Your brother won’t be able to track us on his own, by that little parlor trick will only distract my sister for so long.”

Dirk’s fingers tightened on his hips, though the human said nothing, only setting a brutal pace that made Jake moan into his fist.

In some poetic reversal of role that would have had Jake smirking to himself were he capable of cognitive thought at the time, Dirk pressed his chest to Jake’s back and bit sharply at the meat of his shoulder, likely ruining a perfectly good shirt, as he came. Jake’s own cum splattered the nondescript wall before him as one of Dirk’s hand came down to take him in hand and stroke in the fading blaze of orgasm.

Jake rested his forehead against the brick, panting though his lungs had long since foregone the need for air, the warmth of Dirk at his back enjoyable.

“You’re spry for a hundred-year-old.” Dirk murmured against Jake’s neck.

Jake smirked. “I suppose you’re alright. I won’t even hold your lack of experience against you.” He winced as Dirk tried to pull his softening cock out carefully. Jake swallowed, ignoring the discordant state of bodily fluids he was in and refastening his trousers, hand searching along the ground for a moment to find his belt. He sniffed the air once.

Dirk had his head lain on his forearm, sweat beading on his neck and flush in his cheeks, his breathing heavy and eyes on Jake.

The vampire gave a small smile. “I’d simply love to spend the rest of the evening cuddling, but I’m afraid this neighborhood smells a bit too much like wet dog for my liking.”

Dirk blinked, watching Jake walk off casually down the street, then disappear in the flickering of a streetlamp.

“Bro!” Someone called far away. “Bro!” Closer now.

“Shit,” Dirk muttered, pulling the condom off, tying it off, and throwing it as far away as possible before attempting to straighten himself out.

* * *

“Woah,” John said quietly, watching the smooth-bodied yellow lizard squirm almost lazily, delving into the shallow water of its tank to blow up a single bubble from its mouth.

“Is the Viceroy acting up again?” Rose asked, note of jest in her voice as she approached.

“Viceroy?” John asked.

“Viceroy Bubbles von Salamancer.”

“Does he get into trouble a lot?” John asked conversationally.

Rose tilted her head. “He’s been known climb the walls and taunt the cats.”

There was a polite clearing of a throat, and the both of them turned around. Rose and John, that is. The Viceroy carried on with his namesake.

Kanaya stood at the doorway of the observatory, tight smile on her face. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But could I borrow John for a moment?”

Rose dipped her head. “Of course, Lady Maryam.”

John observed the flicker of amusement that crossed Kanaya’s features as she returned with a demure “Thank you, Miss Lalonde.”

Vriska was in the hallway as well, rolling her eyes as Kanaya and John exited the observatory, walking with them toward the guest rooms. “Could the two of you quit it with your weird uppity lipstick-lesbian foreplay?”

Kanaya tilted her chin just the slightest bit upwards. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re referring to.”

“What is it, half your age plus seven? I’m sure there’s lots of eighty-year-olds who’d be glad to shack up with you.”

“Vriska, I would be happy if you dropped it. We have more important business at hand.” Kanaya knocked on a door, Tavros opening it and holding it for them.

Vriska threw herself across the bed, unmindful of her shoes on the smoothed down comforter. Tavros sat on the end of the bed after closing the door, and Kanaya remained standing.

“Jake contacted me to inform me of what happened regarding his run-in with the Striders.” Kanaya began, John feeling his nerves clench. Dave still hadn't responded to his warning, though Pesterchum marked it as having been read. “He said that he believes they may have collaborated Jane’s pack,” she paused. “Your grandmother’s, John.”

John swallowed, nodding. He’d thought on that a bit. It was strange; his father had never much liked to talk about her, citing her only as a wonderful mother and a dedicated baking instructor. And that also meant that Jade was _Jade_ , and she was his cousin. And Jake was his great uncle. And three fourths of his known living family was immortal. Still, not the weirdest thing going on.

“We’re leaving again, aren't we?” It was Tavros who spoke, voice steady even as he clenched his hands tightly together.

Kanaya nodded solemnly. “We can’t tell Roxy and Rose. I would have trusted their mother with my life, but you can’t say they aren’t… biased.”

“Where, then?” Vriska asked. “If the Striders are calling in the cavalry, I’d like to _avoid_ getting stabbed by a lawyer again.

“The city is our safest bet at the moment. Nick and Matt owe me a favor.”

Vriska raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Team Nack? There’s enough bloodsucking parasites around without adding stock brokers to the mix. Not to mention how obvious it is.”

“Exactly. Too obvious. I received a call from Franklin last night as well. He said Jake drank him to losing consciousness and left him for dead. After what happened to Casey,” Kanaya laid a sympathetic hand on John’s shoulder nearly the same moment the mere mention of the young woman sent a stone hurtling into John’s stomach. “I thought it best to warn our other contacts. With them all suddenly rushing on vacation, Jake will likely turn to the most difficult of our safe havens to reach.”

Vriska scoffed. “You seriously think the guy’s going to believe we up and left for London? That’s brilliant.”

“Pack all your things discretely. We leave at dawn.”

* * *

Kanaya stowed her reading when she heard the measured knock at her door, checking the time. It was nearly midnight. She opened the door. The younger witch of the house stood there, dressed in rather warm pajamas, knitted socks peeking from the ends of flannel pants.

“Rose,” she said. “You’re dressed rather warmly.”

“Roxy controls the thermostat, I’m afraid, and her world is evidently constantly on fire.” The blond smiled politely. “I saw your light on. I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Kanaya returned the smile with one of her own. “I’m fine, thank you. But I wouldn't mind the company. Won’t you come in?”

Rose shot her a coy look as she entered the room. “You’re blushing, Kanaya.”

“Forgive me. During my life, it would have been incredibly inappropriate to invite a young lady I was courting to my bedroom.” If she weren't sent to bedlam or a convent or an open pyre for acknowledging such proclivities.

Rose raised an eyebrow as she seated herself on the end of the bed. “Is that what this is? Courting?”

“I would like to think so.” Kanaya admitted. “I care for you, Rose.”

“I care for you too, Kanaya.” The human replied. Her lips pursed. “You’re leaving, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“To help your firstborn kill my brothers.”

Kanaya shook her head, finding herself unable to meet Rose’s eye. “I don’t know what will happen. Jake has done many things that he needs to answer for. But he wants John. So long as John is here, Jake may very well be willing to raze everything in his path.”

“Why?” Rose asked. “Why is he doing all this?”

“Because,” Kanaya replied forlornly. “John is all Jake thinks he has left.”

* * *

When Rose awoke the next morning, Kanaya was gone but for the scent lingering on the cold bed sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *passive aggressively ignores AP Chemistry homework in order to type and revise 900 words of porn*  
> #winning
> 
> Yeah. I named the turtle consort Franklin. What of it?
> 
> Note: tags have been updated to suit. *wink wink*
> 
> As always, let me know what you thought. Reviews are love!


	12. Act 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanaya drives, John sees the dynamic of Vriska and Tavros, Terezi and Karkat go hunting, John does some light reading, Sollux charges his phone.
> 
> Warning for pop culture references.

New York City was a fantastical thing, nearly as bright as day even in the dead of night, traffic slow as shit.

“So, where are we going exactly?” John asked. Vampiric contact stock brokers, first thing that came to mind was somewhere with a serial-killer-esque basement, sterile and steel, meat hooks dangling from the ceiling. Probably on a private island where no one could hear the screaming of victims.

“Queens.” Vriska yawned, sitting up from where she’d been using John’s lap as a pillow across the back seat, fishing out a pair of sunglasses from her syllabus. “Always forget how fucking bright it is here.” She drummed her fingernails on the car door.

“We haven’t seen any plays in a few years.” Tavros reminisced. “Broadway’s been doing good lately. I like _Hamilton_.”

“I’ll get you tickets if you can refrain from singing it until the show.” Vriska promised.

Tavros shrugged. “Five years at most. I can do that. _But_ ,” he countered, turning around in the passenger seat to look at Vriska with a grin. “You have to go with me.”

Vriska grumbled something under her breath, leaning her head back against the headrest, presumably to get some more rest.

John observed their easy banter silently, a dull ache in his abdomen with some sort of longing he couldn’t explain.

* * *

Dave was giving him the silent treatment like some sort of pissy nine-year-old. That was fine. Dirk had been at this game far longer anyways.

“You’re an idiot.” The younger finally said, some ways into upstate New York.

“Excuse you.” Dirk returned.

“No, I mean it. You fucked up. Admit it.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Dirk tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“And I’m the ‘reckless’ and ‘inexperienced’ one? Maybe if you weren’t thinking with your dick the other night,”

Dirk dug the brakes into a screeching halt, other cars honking up a shit storm as they were forced to go around the orange sedan on the highway.

There was a creeping silence before Dave turned his head away and staring blandly out the window. “We’re going the wrong way, anyways. John pestered me a couple of hours ago. They’re in the city.”

“And you didn’t think that would be worth mentioning?”

“You let our mark get away because you had to get your dick wet. I think I’m entitled to a little wiggle room.”

Dirk sighed, finally flipping off one of their friends in traffic testing their horns and own one-fingered salutes.

“Call Terezi.” The older Strider brother finally decided. “They’re probably closer than we are at this point.”

* * *

Matt and Nick were decidedly not what John was expecting. They were like media’s poor depiction of a domestic gay couple. The roses outside were glorious ( _”Human sacrifice.”_ Vriska had whispered conspiratorially in his ears when she caught him looking at them), the entire house stylish and modern while maintaining the charm of the 20’s exterior. They did, however, have a somewhat unsettling basement.

That might just be because Vriska had split off from Nick’s tour of the house to hang by her knees from the ceiling beams and scare the shit out of John when he came down the stairs.

The room behind the bookcase was… disturbing. Somewhere between a renaissance fair apothecary shop, a sex dungeon, and a new age tea shop, pentagrams complete with the weird goat head adorning the walls. At least John was right about the ceiling meat hooks.

John definitely wasn’t expecting the stock broker couple to be Satanists.

He was more than happy to pull out their sofa-bed and get some rest, though, having been unable to sleep for most of the ride.

“We’ll be back around seven,” Matt called as they headed out the door. “Make yourselves at home, there’s some quinoa from last night and lamb’s blood in the fridge!”

* * *

Noon was when vampires were weakest. Sure, the sun didn’t outright obliterate them and to the best of Terezi’s knowledge it didn’t make them fucking sparkle. But they were lethargic. The light was harsh on their eyes.

Karkat opened her door for her, locking the car and walking beside her up the quaint walkway and onto the porch. She could smell roses. Lovely. She lifted her cane, knocking the head gracefully twice on the front door.

Her hand found the doorknob, finding it locked. With a smirk, she took a step back, gesturing for Karkat to do his work.

A solid kick below the doorknob broke the lock, forcing the door open while the two swarmed the house.

They’d almost certainly be noticed now.

“I’ll take the kitchen.” Karkat whispered lowly to her. “Bedroom door on your left.”

Terezi nodded her head, drawing apart the upper and lower halves of her cane. Her hand followed along the wall, finding a door frame. The door was unlocked. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

She dug the blade of her cane into the wall, feeling paint and dry wall give beneath it and she walked the circumference of the room, waiting for anything in the room to give itself away. “Hush, li’l leeches, don’t say a word.” She said in singsong. “‘Rezi’s gonna make this really fucking hurt.”

The hunter paused, giving a soft sniff. “Now where have I smelled that perfume before?” She wondered aloud.

She spun around quick as she could when the floor creaked helpfully, slicing away from her a potential foe.

“What, did they run out of good hunters to call in?” A familiar voice sneered.

“Vriska, how lovely to hear your voice again.” Terezi commented idly, swiping low, just scarcely missing as Vriska jumped backwards. “And here I’d thought that our previous meeting would be our last.”

“Hard to hit someone’s heart when you don’t know what you’re aiming for.” Vriska taunted, ducking a second blow. “But I guess you were pretty familiar with my chest by the end of that week. You should have tried going in from the front.”

Terezi sniffed as though offended. “There’s a limited number of perfect breasts in the world. It’d be a shame to ruin yours.”

* * *

Karkat stepped carefully into the kitchen, trying the light switch. Great. Bloodsuckers cut the power. He turned his sickle in his hand, prepared to be rushed from any direction.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a giant ass antique jar fell off the top of the cabinets and shattered into a few hundred pieces, spilling organic oatmeal dark chocolate chip cookies across the floor.

Ah yes, the fanged menace of the night, the house cat. Karkat curled his lip in irritation, trying to ward the overly fluffy thing from him. “Shoo!” He tried, wave it away.

The fuzzy white creature only slinked down onto the counter, approaching Karkat with a needy “mrooow?”

“I’m not going to feed you. Now fuck off.”

The cat’s response was to shove its head against his side, trying to climb onto him.

Karkat sighed angrily, setting his sickle down on the counter to try to dislodge his unwelcome companion with both hands.

“Come on,” he urged, trying to unhook claws from his sweater. “I’ve got shit to do, kitty, can we not do this?”

He brought the cat before his face, noticing something strange about the way its eyes were glossed over, almost amber in hue.

“Shit,” he muttered, just in time for the cat to begin furiously clawing at him, leaving neat stripes of blood on Karkat’s face and arms.

He contemplated just punting the damn thing, but holding it at arm’s length seemed like the only immediate solution that would work out for him. His eyes darted around the kitchen, landing on the window. Carefully wrangling the fanged hairball, Karkat managed to lift the pane, tossing the cat outside and letting the window fall closed, furry hellspawn leaping and hissing at the glass.

He panted, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face.

Karkat grit his teeth. What kind of half-baked asshole of a vampire put a cat in thrall?

He turned his attention back to the counter where his sickle-

Where the fuck was his sickle?

Tavros watched the hunter from the darkness of the living room, crouched behind the couch. He had one of the decorative beaded couch pillows pressed to his face, stifling the sound of the sneezes bubbling up every few seconds. Sometimes he marveled at how vampirism had cured his leukemia but not his cat allergy.

* * *

_As the cellular make-up of the vampyre is frozen in its labors once exposed to a. the venom of a vampyre and b. the blood of a vampyre, preserving soundly body in stasis while leaving mind unfettered, so does the were-wolf receive eternal life through a curse of constant cell growth and movement. The body of a vampyre is for all intents and purposes a corpse reanimated by borrowed blood (fig. 1). Of five were-wolf subjects examined post-mortem, all showed internal signs of new muscle growth and working digestion (fig. 2), as well as immunity from disease. For reasons yet unknown, exposure to argentum will inflict burn-like wounds on both were-wolves and vampyres, although the latter requires some measure of ingestion to produce similar results. Testing has been conclusive for both silver nitrate and silver chloride salts. Inconclusive for silver bromide._

John skipped ahead a few pages. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to learn about the biology of actual vampires and werewolves, but this observation journal, written in—he flipped quickly to the front—1797 by someone named Porrim was really not doing a lot to excite his interest. Not that it wasn’t fascinating, but honestly, right now he really just wanted to figure out what the hell Jake had done to him with venom. Kanaya was thus far reticent about the subject, shooting down nearly every effort John had made to mention it since they’d fled Queens.

Southwest of Boston, the house overlooked the cape beautifully, library having two levels and many of the books hand-written.

That was what Kanaya had assigned him; explore the library, find the subjects that interested him, and they would go from there with his tutoring when he was more comfortable.

John had access to a phone now. With a vampire lord, a werewolf pack, and a pair of hunters chasing him, however, there was no way he was going to call his dad and drag him into this.

God, did John want to hear his father’s voice. It’d be too long. What was it? Almost a week now? John had gone to summer camp before without a word from his father for nearly a month and it hadn’t felt nearly as long as this.

He had to be patient. Maybe call from a burner cell in the future, just to let his dad know that he was alright, to stop looking for him, that he would be back home when he could.

John really needed Dave to catch up. The sooner he could get changed back, the better.

John set to reading again, flipping and scanning for mentions of venom.

_The venom of a vampyre has a sedative effect on mortals, useful for subduing targets. Prolonged exposure to venom is notably deteriorative to nerves, resulting in loss of feeling and fine motor skills. When ingested or injected directly to the blood stream of vampyres, venom has a similar effect to that of enthrallment, repressing the vampyre’s thought processes and proving detrimental to long-term memory. More research is needed for further information._

Well this looked promising. John’s eyes darted to the footnote, directing him to another page later on for more information.

355, 357, ah! Page 361, labeled in a neat hand.

_Further on Vampyres and Venom_

John rolled his eyes with an impatient irritation at the heading proceeding a section that actually began on 362. He read it eagerly and…

His stomach dropped out.

_Following the High Council’s ruling of September, 1799, all experimentation of venom’s impact on vampyres is formally outlawed; punishable with death it presents. Were I not the sole proprietor of my research, I would test the results on myself._

_Venom itself seems to form as a reaction to-_

John flipped ahead. Stark black letters headed the next chapter, making him nearly laughed aloud. The chapter titled “WERE-WOLVES” began on page 394.

“Enjoying yourself?”

John looked up. Kanaya stood just beyond the French doors of the library, glass of wine in hand. John’s nose twitched and… okay, maybe not wine.

“Uh, yeah. Just kind of skimming.” He admitted.

Kanaya raised a brow. “Many would choose a more hands-on subject than biology to begin with. And few would be able to find it interesting enough to laugh.” Not a critique, just a comment.

John shrugged. “I like biology. This Porrim person really knew what they were doing.” Of the massive collection of books circling the room, at least half of them were hand-written by Porrim no-last-name.

Kanaya smiled, nodding. “My maker. As I understand, it was her goal to understand everything she could about our kind and our history, as well as that of werewolves.”

“Was? What does she do now?”

Kanaya’s smile grew melancholic. “I’m afraid she is no longer alive, or undead as it were.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kanaya shook her head briefly. “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace and tried to better myself from it.” She took a sip of what may or may not be wine. “But enough of such dreary topics; dinner’s ready. Isabella will be arriving afterwards.”

“Isabella?” John asked as he stood, straightening out the books he’d got down from the shelves.

“A consort. You may stay in your room while she is here, if you like.”

* * *

“The wards are holding strong.” Rose commented idly.

Roxy shrugged. “He’ll get through.”

Both could feel the unwanted presence nearing the edge of the property, approach slowed until let in or mental fortitude proved strong enough to breach their defenses.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Terezi and Karkat weren’t answering their phones. Down the street, Dirk and Dave could see the unassuming grey car parked in front of the house, but it’d been silent for nearly half an hour.

Throwing caution to the wind, Dave got out of the car despite his brother’s protests. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual as he approached. He felt for his strife specibus, opening the storm door for an overweight white cat. The front door was opened slightly, lock broken.

Pictures were knocked off the wall, the first room he checked, an office, having a deep gouge in the plaster all along the wall at arm level. Dishes and shit were shattered in the kitchen, the fridge hanging open and food on the floor. The living room…

Oh, son of a bitch.

Dirk caught up to him, crossing his arms and staring at the sight before him.

The couch was tipped over, curtains torn down, what was either a crude pot leaf or a middle finger was drawn in blood on the wall, a smiley face beside it. But it was the squirming centerpiece that really drew the eye.

The two elite hunters they’d called in were duct taped to the wall, a foot off the floor, back to back. Back to back as in Karkat’s face was against the wall, Terezi facing out.

“Do I even want to ask?” Dave sighed.

“Why David! So glad of you to join us!” Terezi responded. “If you’d be so kind as to cut us down, or explain why you didn’t tell us we were taking out Vriska Serket, that’d be excellent.”

Karkat said something, muffled by the wall.

“Serket?” Dirk asked as he drew his katana, uncaring of slicing the wallpaper a bit as he sawed through the unrealistic amount of duct tape supporting the two hunters. “Thought you took her out a few years back.”

With the left side of the duct tape removed, the right sagged under Terezi and Karkat’s combined weight, threatening to drop them. With a harsh ripping sound, they fell to the polished wooden floor.

As Dave freed their hands and feet, Karkat yanked something from his mouth, spitting on the floor in disgust.

“Dude, are those your socks?” Dave asked, glancing down at Karkat’s bare feet.

Karkat only glared at him.

“I thought she was dead.” Terezi said. “She seemed dead the last time I stabbed her.”

“What even happened?”

Karkat looked over Dirk’s shoulder, glaring at something. The brothers turned their heads, spotting the cat licking himself from atop an end table.

“It all started with that fucking cat.”

Dave nearly jumped out of his fucking skin as a head appeared through the floor.

Black hair, pale skin, vibrant red and blue eyes, sour expression. “If you guys are done dicking around, I found something you might be interested in.” Sollux said with an unimpressed tone before phasing back downwards.

Karkat was out of the living room in a huff, searching for stairs to the lower level, ranting about useless fucking half-demons and _if you were here the whole time why didn’t you get us down you asshole?_

A door behind a bookshelf was thrown open, Sollux sitting just outside the room with his phone plugged into the wall.

“You didn’t look at anything?” Dirk asked, peeking into the room. It’d been a while since he’d seen good old fashioned Satanism. Freedom of religion and all that, Satanists tended to stay off their radar unless they got involved in other shit. Like vampires.

Sollux shrugged. “Can’t go in. It’s warded to all hell. Whoever they are, they know what they’re doing. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re dangerous.”

A shriek of horror issued from upstairs.

“I guess the owners are home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I had way too much fun writing the meet-up between Dave, Dirk, Karkat, and Terezi.
> 
> As always, comments are love!


	13. Act 13

Dirk stuffed his phone in his pocket.

“Still nothing?” Dave asked, still not taking his eyes off their hosts. Dave had dealt with a lot of nasty shit. Banshees, reanimated corpses, incubi, succubae, werewolves, vampires, demons, necromancers, but here was something truly disturbing, staring at him, terrified, through Armani eyeglasses.

Stockbrokers.

“Roxy’s not answering.” Dirk replied, resisting the urge to fuck up his hair in frustration. “Neither is Rose.” He wasn't concerned. Witches were notoriously flighty broads. Especially those two. He simply wouldn't allow himself to think about where Ja—English was, which was certainly not vengefully seeking out two of the only people in the world that he could call friends.

Striders didn't do fear.

Besides, Roxy could take care of herself.

“Just tell me how to break the wards.” Karkat told one of their hosts, pulling out the gag.

The man gasped for a heavy breath before speaking. “Please, if you let us go, we won’t tell the mmph-” Karkat shoved the gag back in, stepping around to the other side.

“How about this: what are your names?”

The moment the other’s mouth was free, he spoke. “Nack.” He said, not at all like a deer in the headlights being asked if it’d been drinking. “I mean, I’m Nick, he’s Matt. Please, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Step aside.” Sollux said, drifting between Nick and Karkat. The half-demon tilted his head, looking unimpressed. Nonchalantly, his long pale fingers plucked the chain that disappeared beneath Nick’s shirt, blueish skin sizzling lightly as he pulled the amulet completely out.

Sollux turned it over, seemingly unmindful as his hand began to blister. He tore it away, snapping the chain neatly and tossing it to Terezi, who caught it.

She sighed, thumb tracing the rune carved into it. “This new-age shit isn't nearly as strong as the old stuff.” She lamented. “It’s like bringing a butter knife to a gunfight.”

“You assholes are in over your heads.” Sollux told the couple. “This place is a beacon to anything demonic in the area and you’re fucking lucky you haven’t ripped your own intestines out yet just because someone thought it might be funny.”

“We took every precaution,” Nick started to ramble, visibly trembling at Sollux’s icy breath smelling of decay on his face. “To-to break the wards, you need to spill blood on the threshold.”

Of course. Dirk rolled his eyes. It was always fucking blood. He drew a knife, bringing it up to his hands and stepping to the edge of the sanctuary. He trickled from his palm, dropping onto the doorway. The blood flowed up the door frame, in a way that totally wasn't creepy as shit, until a thin layer of copper wrapped it entirely.

Half an hour later, the hunters were walking out of the house with not a bad quantity of spell books, some of which Dirk was fairly certain were bound in human skin.

Dave checked his phone the moment they were in the car, showing Dirk a line of blue text on Pesterchum.

EB: boston.

* * *

_1930_

Jane felt stiff, her joints and muscles aching as though she'd slept on the floor.

Her back was against wood, she realized, and wondered if she'd fallen out of bed in the night without awakening.

She scraped her fingernails over the floor, texture giving her pause. It was not the worn, varnish-smooth floor of her room, but rather rough and peeling apart with her scratching.

Opening her eyes took some concentration on her part, head foggy. She wondered if she were sick, the cloying smell of ether lost in her daze. It was something else she smelled, the lingering scent of Uncle Richard's new hunting trophies.

Formaldehyde.

It took even then a moment or two to realize she had opened her eyes, finding herself in a complete darkness, the only sounds made by the shifting of her body.

Her hands required concentration to be raised, not making it far before they were stopped by another pane of rough wood.

On the sides as well, over her head and at her feet.

Her legs moved with patience, at last recognizing the rough lace on her shins of the pink Sunday dress that Aunt Betty liked for Jane to wear.

Jane attempted to remember where she was, what had happened, but she couldn't for the life of her reca-

_Rough hands hauling her off the street, out of sight. Scream stopped by the palm over her mouth and nose, cutting off her breathing for a hazy minute as she struggled and twisted in blind terror._

_Her head cracked against the wall of a building, sending waves of pain and hot wetness down her skull._

_The tears in her eyes did nothing to deter her attacker, shaggy hair and breath like rotting meat obscuring all else._

_God, why hadn't she agreed to let Jim Bundt walk her home from the church like he'd offered to? Why her? What was this man going to do to her?_

_Jane had her answer within moments. Like a rabid dog baring its fangs, the man bit her, burying his teeth as deeply into her shoulder as he could._

_She screamed against his hand in pain and fear, trying to get away but only ripping the wound. She tried to fight back, her blows landing without effect._

_For a moment, it was only his hands that held her, agony blossoming down her entire right side as he ripped away from her shoulder, swallowing down torn flesh and clothing without discretion._

_Jane sobbed, fearing she may vomit or faint and be left at this man's, this creature's, mercy._

_He bit her again, terror shooting through her anew when she realized he had reached bone, the force reverberating into her whole body as he gnawed on it._

_There was a loud bang, and then stillness._

_A sob bubbled past her lips when her attacker fell to the ground, a new figure a few hundred feet away with a pistol in hand, smoke trickling from its barrel._

_Jane's knees failed her, and she fell to the ground, trembling._

_The figure stepped toward her without hurry. A young man, she saw, with tidy blond hair and a black suit. Without a word, he cocked his pistol and put another bullet into Jane's attacker, in the head this time._

_"Sorry for the fuss, Miss." He said, Texan accent coloring his smooth words. "Damn dog's given me more trouble than he's worth." The man shook his head, nudging the prone body of Jane's attacker between the ribs with his boot._

_Jane couldn't speak as the man lowered himself to one knee in front of her, bringing them to eye level. He was handsome, she saw, skin pale and a thin mustache over his lips. A deep scar cut down the length of his cheek, parallel to his jaw._

_"I'd offer to walk you home," he said, fiddling with the gun in his hands. Reloading, Jane realized. "But fact is he bit you."_

_She stilled when he raised the pistol, barrel pressed just above her pounding heart._

_"Sorry about this, little sister."_

Jane was hyperventilating. She shook, trying to calm herself down. If she was where she thought she was, she would waste what air she had left.

She recalled to mind every adventure book she'd ever read with Jake, mind dwelling on the few occasions adventurers had needed to escape from this very situation.

Jane put her hands up on the lid of the coffin, trying to push it open.

It didn't budge, creaking. Nailed shut.

Jane took a few deep breaths, checking to make sure that enough of her body was responding for this.

She brought her knees up as best she could, ramming them against the lid again and again as her hands shoved.

A great creak, and the wood cracked dramatically, dirt beginning to pour in onto her. She held her breath and kept her eyes shut as she pushed up, digging her way out, dirt loose. She hadn't been buried long, at least.

Her lungs felt as though they were going to burst when her hand reached open space, a massive burst of breath filling her when she was free. Within minutes, her whole body was free, skin nearly blackened with dirt.

She trembled, hugging her knees to her chest.

Jane was missing a shoe; likely lost in her escape. She removed its brother, and she walked away from her grave beside her uncle's.

The house was silent and dark when she found it.

The door was unlocked, Halley looking up from the floor at her entry, sniffing excitedly. He stood up silently and circled Jane, nudging his nose into her fanny and sniffing vigorously.

Blush coloring her cheeks, Jane shoved him away with a pat to his head, dirt left behind in his white fur.

He'd certainly never done that before.

Jane moved through the house with practiced ease, avoiding the creaking floorboards.

The washroom on the second floor was just as she remembered it. She removed her dress. She wondered if all the dirt would ever come out. Jane turned on the faucet, wetting a cloth and beginning to wipe the dirt from her body. The cool water chilled her, goose flesh going up her arms and legs.

She had to ring out the cloth no fewer than a half dozen times before she had done all she could, though there was still dirt under her finger nails and she thought her ears would never be cleared.

Her hair was a matted mess. She doubted her horsehair brush would even survive the encounter. She removed the pair of silver combs she'd been given by Uncle Richard on her thirteenth birthday, setting them down and jerking a bit when her fingers must have caught edges broken in her burial, pain shooting through them.

Jane looked at herself in the mirror, searching through the bathroom until she found a pair of scissors.

She felt a surprising apathy when the first of her locks fell to the vanity. The second was even easier, dirty hair falling all around her until she had a jagged, if a bit cleaner, crop of hair. It took nearly twenty minutes of minute snips until it was even to her satisfaction.

She ran her hand over her shoulder, finding the skin smooth and without flaw where she’d been bitten so viciously.

Jane retrieved a bathrobe, covering herself as she found her bedroom.

The door was unlocked, she noted with relief, the mirror on her vanity covered with a black drape. Probably Aunt Betty, the superstitious bat.

Jane found a nightdress, the clean fabric an impossible comfort.

She took up her brush, beginning to work the filth from her scalp and shockingly featherweight hair.

What would she do? She wondered. How was she alive? Had she cheated death? What had the blond man meant?

The hairbrush toppled from her hand, clattering noisily on the floor.

A sound of movement, and the door was wrenched open.

Aunt Betty stood there, dressed for bed and holding the wicked looking shotgun Uncle Richard had always kept pride of place in the hallway.

Jane smiled. “Auntie, I-”

_Bang!_

Jane stilled, looking down at herself. The front of her nightdress was splattered with blood, buckshot pellets making a gory mess of her stomach. She coughed, tasting copper.

“Devil!” Aunt Betty hissed over Halley's barking. “Specter! You'll not be welcomed in this God-fearing house!”

Jane looked up at her aunt bleakly, knees giving beneath her once again. She fell to her bedroom floor.

Aunt Betty rushed from the room, off to fetch the police or the reverend.

Jane sobbed, shaking.

Sound cold in the still room, a pellet fell to the floor with a clatter.

Then another.

Then they were pouring out of her, collecting bloody on the floor. When it was silent again, Jane put her hand to her belly.

The nightdress was shredded, bloodied, but her skin was untouched. The flesh had mended.

Jane forced herself to her feet. She couldn't stay here.

She stumbled to her window, moving more on instinct than any semblance of thought.

Jane's body began to ache, joints popping out of place and bones cracking, though she was unable to cry out in pain.

When it was over, she breathed heavily, memory of the pain all that lingered.

Her nose twitched frantically, harsh smell of gunpowder and blood all around her.

Her ears twitched, ruffling against the top of her head.

She nearly fainted when she saw her weak reflection in the window. She was a massive dog, fur dark and eyes still blue.

A scream, and she knew Aunt Betty had returned.

Buckshot burned her once more, and Jane ran, unmindful of the shards of glass cutting into her skin.

She ran clumsily on the grounds surrounding the manor, bolting for the trees.

Jane didn't look back.

* * *

Isabella (Isa, she’d told John to call her,) was actually pretty cool. She had spiked up hair dyed a gradient of blue to green. It would seem she was a wiccan. None of the scary stuff, she’d assured him. Just selling aroma therapy blends and crystals to suburban mothers.

They had tacos, of all things. It seemed to be a running gag between them, Kanaya discussing the effect on the palette and Isa praising the cultural authenticity of Taco Bell, bemoaning not being able to experience it growing up in Coahuila.

“So John,” Isa said as the meal wound down. “How long has Lady Kanaya been dragging you around for?”

“Few days.” John answered. “Still kind of getting used to things.” Things like the fact that he could hear her heartbeat, the wet sound of her pulse stirring hunger in him. He hadn't fed today, he realized.

Isa nodded. She turned back to Kanaya. “Did you want to go somewhere else to…?”

“Whatever John would like.”

John’s mind flashed back to dinner with Casey. To the overwhelming sickly sweet taste of blood as he drained her dry, body going limp in his arms. Of the waitress at the truck stop, and how much he’d wanted to rip her throat out. One occasion when Rose and Kanaya had come to join John and Vriska playing Mario Kart, the shallow wound on the human’s wrist drawing his attention time and time again.

To his dad.

“I’ll stay.” John decided.

Without much ado, Isa offered her arm to Kanaya. The lady wiped her mouth on her napkin, somehow not smudging her lipstick, and brought the inside of Isa’s wrist to her mouth.

John could smell it the second Kanaya’s fangs split skin, watched the wince on Isa’s face before she relaxed into her seat.

Kanaya’s drinking seemed painfully slow, a mere trickle as John watched, enthralled. She watched John in turn, gauging his reactions.

She extended one hand to John’s half full glass of Pepsi, and he handed it to her.

Kanaya’s lips were a brilliant crimson when she took away Isa’s wrist, skin not so wan and color in her cheeks. The vampire turned over Isa’s hand, holding it just so over John’s glass to make a lazy stream of blood trickle and drip into it.

John’s skin vibrated at the sight, waiting for the glass to be given back to him, to gulp down the exquisite cocktail.

After what felt like far too soon, Kanaya brought her lips back to Isa’s skin, lapping across the wound to begin healing it.

“Thank you, dear.” She said softly, handing John his Pepsi.

He stared into the dark drink, bubbles rising up to the top. He raised the glass, trying to sip rather than swallow it greedily. Patience. Control. These were the things Kanaya stressed most.

Glass drained, John set it down.

Kanaya was smiling at him, he realized, pride in her eyes.

* * *

Rose watched in suspense, her hands clasped tightly together to stop them from shaking.

Traditionally, witches fortunate enough to have dealings with spirits of Prospit were the ones to use this field.

Roxy, however, was clever enough to get here from the planes of Derse.

The battlefield was spherical, a small planet with a drooping horizon. The runic stone beneath their feet was checkered dark and light grey, the mockery of a great chessboard with grass sprouting from between the tiles.

Roxy’s mana was limited, the three of them all knew. Conjuration was taxing, the threads of the Void uncooperative, even in Skaia. Within the first few seconds of the duel, it became evident that Roxy didn't believe she would win. Her only goal was to buy time.

Rose was forced to watch passively as her sister’s magic failed her at last, the strongest witch she had ever known barring their mother defeated.

Jake looked down at his fallen foe weary on her knees, half a smirk on his face. “I think I’ll take my prize now.”

Roxy sighed, looking up at him. “Please don’t do this, Jake. I only put him there until I could help him.”

“A deal made here can’t be broken. You should know that better than anyone.” Jake reminded her. “Besides, I’m only taking him for a walk.”

* * *

A tremor jerked through John’s body, awaking him. 10:31, the alarm clock read, the sound of rain battering the house softly. He found his phone beneath his back, Pesterchum notification on the screen confirming that the vibration had disturbed him.

gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10:31  
GG: john you need to get packed and come outside right now!  
GG: and dont wake kanaya up!!!

This was what John had been waiting for, wasn't it? A clear chance to get away, get back to his dad.

But Dave had told him not to trust the werewolves.

Vampires were supposedly worse than werewolves, John supposed, and he started to quickly, silently pack his backpack.

* * *

The crypt was well concealed, silver ore marbling the paving stones that marked its entrance and the wards palpable. Jake had been very careful crafting his deal with Roxy, the magic she’d placed to lead wanderers astray rolling off of him like fog.

The stone gate was immovable without magic. Or the strength of an immortal. Jake put his hands on one side, pushing it out of his way and revealing the dark, musty tomb to open air.

Jake turned on his phone flashlight and began his descent.

He wondered if Roxy had enlisted the help of other witches to carve out this prison, or if it had existed longer. The warding was old, Norse perhaps. Even Marilyn had had only the barest grasp of the old runes.

When Jake reached the base of the stairs, he looked at the wide space of the room before him. A suspension barrier in place, meant to keep the subject in a stasis, not aging or requiring food or water, or even fresh air. This was Roxy’s.

The lightest touch of Jake’s finger, and the barrier fell, the sole prisoner stirring to life ravenously.

Jake stepped forward, unmindful of the yelps of pain at his light in vulnerable eyes.

The creature dragged itself from the wall, chains of silver stopping it and holding it back scant inches from Jake.

A scarred, frothing face, eyes glazed over with incoherence of thought. Lips pulled back to reveal teeth, blood dripping from between them.

Jake chuckled. “Amazing what the right genetics will do to you.” He muttered. “Not even out of your human form and you’re ready to kill.”

The creature did nothing but growl, lunging at Jake again only to be restrained by shackles at its throat and wrists.

“Such is the power of a feral werewolf.” Jake commented, shaking his head. “Gamzee.”

At its name, the creature stilled. A man, when the light was brought closer, limbs lanky and dark hair tangled. The command of a master could not be ignored, freed at last from the years of silence.

Jake pulled from his backpack a shirt he’d brought with him, forgotten in a spare bedroom of the Lalonde residence. Grey, a spade on its front. He pressed the shirt to the man’s face, creature writhing before it had memorized the scent.

A wave of his hand, and Jack released the magic of the shackles. Without the runed silver, the man crouched low, transforming at last into a lethal bestial form, muscles coiled as Gamzee bared down on Jake, expectant.

Jake grinned. “Fetch.”

* * *

Beneath the sickly-sweet stench of vampire on him, John smelled like his father. Though distorted by aftershave and pipe tobacco, it still brought to mind the faintest memories of a nursery wallpapered with ducks, a red-faced babe staring up at her, lips moving without coordination and blue eyes on the verge of falling closed.

Memories of a little boy, pulling at her apron strings as she baked, hiding behind her legs from the heat when she opened the oven. Falling asleep when she read to him, always leaving his toy trains out.

That same little boy, barely old enough for true sadness, holding onto his father’s pant leg and standing over his mother’s second grave, as the casket was buried, unknowing that she watched him from the edge of the cemetery.

Her little Richard, named after the man who’d taken in an orphaned child and raised her as his own.

It was for the best, she told herself as she stepped away, Jade and Equius following her after a moment. Jake had tired of chasing her. As long as she allowed herself a weakness, Richard wouldn't be safe.

Jane hadn't even been able to comfort her son when John was taken, unwilling to risk him knowing she still lived.

John had fallen asleep nearly within moments of settling into the back of the van, the power of the sun too strong for such a young fledgling to resist its pull for long.

His head rested in Jane’s lap, her fingers carding gently through his hair.

Jane would protect John to her last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting a look at Jane's past, and what things might have been like for John if he'd been introduced to vampirism the proper way.
> 
> Damien Strider, a somewhat vain hunter with a cool scar and poor aim.  
> And no, not a direct ancestor of Dirk and Dave, but a cousin of their great-grandfather.
> 
> As always, leave a comment and tell me what you thought, or find me on a-sad-little-biscuit.tumblr.com


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